


Exploiting a Holiday

by imincognitobtch



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Awesome broship, Drinking, F/M, Jack is a drama queen, Jealousy, M/M, Meta Shit, Miscommunication, Pining, Sexual Tension, Valentine's Day, do i tag the sex stuff they do or what, he seriously hates vday tho, how do tags work, i wrote the smut and now idk what to do, rhys is jack's PA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-06-02 11:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6564805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imincognitobtch/pseuds/imincognitobtch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack <em>despises</em> Valentine's day. </p><p>So when Rhys finds himself with a bouquet of flowers outside of Jack's door, only to overhear Jack say that he'd shoot the next person to give him a Valentine's day gift? He does the next sensible thing.</p><p>Give it to that pretty girl in Marketing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Close the door would you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peanutbutter_kitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutbutter_kitz/gifts).



> Yes, I changed my username and icon (for my own purposes). Yes I am still going to update my other fic. 
> 
> For PitchJack because she's the sweetest thing to happen to existence.

Nancy from Marketing was looking at Rhys again.

He sat idly next to Vaughn at the Hub of Heroism as he nursed his coffee, and quickly turned away from Nancy’s table at the other side of the room with a hurried whisper, “She’s staring again.”

“Ignore it.” Vaughn said in half-hearted reprimand, far too accustomed to his friend’s antics at this point.

“Yeah, okay, I’d do that if she could stop  _fricking_ staring.”

“She isn’t half bad.”

“She thought my name was Rick.”

At this, his friend actually had the audacity to laugh, “Traumatic and harrowing.” Vaughn raised an eyebrow at him, “Just stop encouraging it.”

Rhys sent him a seething glare.

Even though Rhys self-identified as a "nice guy," he really couldn’t find anything all that appealing about Nancy. Not that she wasn’t pretty--she was. She just wasn’t for him.

He’d spent days just pointedly ignoring her in the elevator or even turning away to mess around with his ECHOcomm when she cut the coffee line behind him. He’d been subtly dropping her hints all week that whatever she was hoping for was not about to happen any time soon.  _Especially_ not today at seven o’clock in the bloody morning.

“It’s  _just_ Valentine’s day,” Vaughn mumbled into his coffee, “When is it even? Like two weeks from now? I don’t get all the hype.”

Rhys pointedly looked at him, and then turned to look at the rest of the overtly adorned hub. Overnight it had somehow turned extraordinarily pink and sprouted flowers out of every corner. Some loader bots ambled about with roses taped around their wide metallic torsos.

After Jack’s rise to power, the hub had somehow turned into a gathering point for all employees in and out of breaks since their new CEO was at least generous enough to set up a place for his exhausted worker bees to chug caffeine. So if there was any place Jack had to lavishly deck out so that _everyone_ on Helios knew he was in a decorative mood, it was the Hub of frigging Heroism.

Which may have been why, to his great displeasure and unease, even his coffee cup had Jack's face plastered in the middle with pink hearts.  

“Yeah,” said Rhys quietly, feeling quite dejected as he tried very hard not to return Nancy’s hawk-like gaze directed to the side of his head, “Don’t get it either, buddy... Jack  _despises_  Valentine's day.”

They sat in pensive silence for several moments until Rhys couldn’t handle the uncomfortable feeling of someone looking at him anymore.

“I should really get going. Jack’s gonna be expecting his coffee soon.”

Vaughn gave him an encouraging nod, before stretching out his fist.

Seeing this, Rhys laughed and bumped the offered fist, “I’ll see you.”

* * *

 “I hate this holiday.”

Rhys briefly looked up from his monitor to see Jack standing by the large paned windows staring out at Elpis, seemingly in the mood to enact another spontaneous monologue.  _What a drama queen_ , he thought despite himself.

“What was that, sir?” said Rhys in feigned interest, pretending as though Jack hadn't said these same words exactly five times before. 

The other turned in a dramatic flurry of his shirt coat, and Rhys fought the urge to roll his eyes, “It’s Jack, sweetheart. And Valentine’s day! It’s a goddamn joke of a holiday. Everything about it makes me want to shoot myself in the face.”

The PA returned to typing away at his computer, “Hm, then why the decorations, Jack?”

“I was waiting for someone to ask!” He grinned and turned back towards the windows with an extravagant stride, “It apparently boosts company morale. Valentine’s day ranked highest for the most anticipated holiday on the employees poll.”

“We have an employee poll?” He decided to humor the other man, as he looked towards his coffee cup and found it to be empty. Standing up to refill his cup, Rhys kept his ears peeled lest his boss have anything important to say.

“Yeah, anyway, it ranked next to Christmas and my birthday. Can you  _believe_ that? It ranked higher than _my birthday_ of all things...”

“Yes sir. It sounds... traumatic and harrowing, sir,” he called over his shoulder as he leaned forward slightly to pour himself another cup on the designated coffee table. Bless Vaughn for giving him words. 

“ _It's Jack_. And yeah, I’m not a hero if I’m not for the people, right? I figured putting some extra pink flowers here and there would help set everyone in the festive mood.”

“And taping roses to loader bots, sir?” 

There was no reply.

Blinking, Rhys's mind went into full alert as he registered that Jack was silent.

Had he realized that Rhys wasn't listening? 

"Sir, I--" In slight panic, he turned quickly, nearly spilling his drink, to find that Jack had been staring at him. Frowning, he tried to see if anything--a sign perhaps--had been taped to his back. But Jack had already moved on with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Would you quit calling me that? And yeah, that was my idea so _no_ stealing.” Jack walked back towards his desk to reach for his coffee, "By the way, what’s in this coffee, Rhysie?”

“Sugar and milk, Jack.”

He nodded in approval as he took a sip, “Add more sugar next time and we’ll talk about letting you keep this job."

* * *

It hadn’t even been two days and somehow Jack had increased the number of Pandoran flowers around the space station. Now, even the cubicles of some workers were flooded with roses, and Rhys found himself nauseated by the overwhelming smell. Flowers grown on Hyperion were one thing, but flowers bred and delivered here from Pandora? Of all of Jack's stupidest ideas, Rhys thought this one took the cake.

He came early to Jack’s office that morning to find the man seated at his chair with his feet up, face buried in a handkerchief as he regarded Rhys’s entrance with disdain.

“Close that door, will you? The smell is making me lose my head!”

“Sir, with all due respect--”

“ _Jack_.”

“Jack. With all due respect--”

“I know, _I know_ , there's no need to 'all due respect' my ass, sweetheart. This space station frickin' stinks.”

Rhys paused, mildly irritated at being interrupted, so he simply said, “I saw a guy from Human Resources puking in a potted plant today. So there’s that for beautiful imagery.”

“Great… just great.” Jack reached for his ECHOcomm before he swiveled in his chair to face away from Rhys and towards his large windows, “Hey, Jessica was it? Look, I don’t care, you’re Debra now, just listen. I'm already in a terrible mood with this stupid holiday and if you don’t airlock all the flowers in the direct vicinity of my office…”

* * *

Nancy had progressed to sitting a table away from Rhys and Vaughn, so the company man found himself avoiding the hub as much as possible. When Thursday morning rolled around, he rushed quickly in line to get two coffees (one black and one drowned in sugar), before scrambling towards the elevators and into Jack’s office.

The moment the doors opened, he nearly dropped the coffee cups in surprise.

Jack sat at the stairs leading to his desk, looking utterly drained, dejected, and---was he drunk? It wasn’t even eight yet.

Bottles of whiskey and shot glasses lay scattered around him on the steps, and he looked almost lost as he started sluggishly in Rhys’s general direction.

“Who’s there?”

“Jack?” Rhys rushed forward, forgetting his formalities as he put his bag and the two coffee cups down onto the stairs, “What’re you doing on the floor?”

He reached forward to yank the bottle of whiskey from Jack’s fingers, but the other man only growled and hugged it to his chest, staring at Rhys as though he had personally offended him.

“Rhysie? The hell do you want?” The CEO spoke in a rush, barely coherent.

“Jack, you’re on the floor of your office.”

“It’s a nice office, yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s fantastic. Now let’s get you up.”

Jack hugs the bottle tighter.

The PA sighed heavily as though he were dealing with a child, before speaking very placatingly to the man, “Alright, you can keep the bottle Jack, just let me help you get back to your penthouse, okay?”

There was a brief pause before he received a shrug for a response and he saw the other try to stand. All he got was a faceful of Jack leaning his entire weight on Rhys’s less built body. Grunting, the company man heaved the other’s arm over his shoulder, before directing them towards the office's private elevator.

“So which floor is it?” he asked as they managed to clamber into the glass elevator (Jack had it set up after complaining for nearly two months of having to walk through the whole station just to get home).

“Sixty-nine,” Jack mumbled drowsily into his neck, and Rhys found himself flushing at the feeling of the other’s breath ghosting his skin.

“Right, of course it is,” he cleared his throat, pressing the designated floor. An awkward silence followed as Rhys leaned against the wall for support as he also supported Jack’s bulky body weight around his shoulders.

“Mm, you smell good.”

Blinking, Rhys coughed, “Um, w-what?”

“Dunno, you smell good for some reason. Those flowers have been driving me nuts for the past two days. Weird.”

The other awkwardly shuffled on his feet as he stared pointedly at the increasing number blinking at them overhead, “Yeahhh, weird.”

 _Please just let me go home_.

At the satisfying ding sound, the elevator hit floor sixty-nine, and Rhys pushed himself forward to exit through the doors that began to slide open, only to be hit with the sight of twenty mini cannons aimed towards him.

“Wha--wha--”

“He’s with me, Felicity.”

The cannons all returned to their original positions.

Fucking hell. 

“You got a bed anywhere?” Rhys cleared his throat, feeling quite rattled at his almost near-death experience. 

“No, I sleep on the floor,” said Jack, seemingly capable enough for sarcasm as he pointed a finger towards one of the halls to the right of the central living room, “It’s in that hall at the first left.”

“Alright, I'm gonna lay you down there and then I’ll get you some water real quick before I go. Sounds good with you, Jack?”  _Let me leave, let me leave_.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replied, allowing himself to be dragged across his own penthouse by his PA. When they entered his bedroom, Rhys tried very hard not to stare at the fancy furniture as he laid his boss down onto the absurdly expensive looking bed sheets.

“Right uh, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He scampered back into the central living area, and found the kitchen not far off at the other side of the room. He found some glasses--oddly he only found wine and beer glasses, so he opted for the hefty beer mugs--and a water dispenser easily enough. When he filled it to the brim, and left to return to Jack, he found himself shocked still for the third time in the span of fifteen minutes as he stared at Jack’s empty bed.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

He found the whiskey bottle left alone on the beside table, and he quickly dropped the mug next to it as he searched the room frantically, calling, “Jack? Jack, where did you go? Jack!”

“I’m in here, dumbass.” A voice spoke from a door to his right, startling him out of his worry. He moved forward cautiously to open it.

When he pulled it back, he was greeted with his self-righteous CEO kneeling before a toilet bowl as he promptly began to puke.

Oh.  _Gross_.

Nevertheless, Rhys exited the bathroom quickly to grab the beer mug and returned to place it into the bathroom counter next to Jack. He squatted beside the other and pressed a comforting hand against his back.

“Feeling better?”

Jack’s reply got caught in his throat as he began to hurl again.

“Nice,” said Rhys under his breath with a hint of disgust, before he reached for one of the paper towels next to the toilet, and boldly wiped away remnants of bile from Jack’s mouth. Strangely, the other let him do it without complaint, “What were you drinking at seven AM for?”

Jack didn’t answer, and instead reached up to take the water from the counter to drink and gargle the filth in his mouth. Rhys guessed that he didn’t hear the question and instead went to reach for a towel hanging from a golden bar attached to the bathroom wall.

“Here,” he offered it kindly.

Jack took it without a word, and stood up as well to sit on the toilet seat as he buried his face into the towel with a groan. He didn’t move.

It was a silence of nothing happening that caused unease to form in Rhys’s mind as he awkwardly watched his boss sit on his toilet, awfully distressed and awfully drunk. Clearly sobering up a bit though by the looks of it.

He was nearly about to excuse himself and take a well-deserved day-off when Jack said rather ambiguously, “Bad memories.”

Rhys froze in the action of opening his mouth, before closing it, and then opening it again, “Sorry?”

“I was drinking because of some bad memories.”

Rhys wanted to say something but didn’t. What bad memories could Jack be having? Did he even _have_ the capacity to be sad? He didn’t want to pry or seem invasive so he remained silent and waited.

“This… holiday. Valentine's day," he clicked his tongue in annoyance, and Rhys, perhaps for the first time, found himself listening to Jack's real and honest feelings without the extravagant monologues and absurd speeches, "Oh, it gets me  _so_  mad. Advertising love and relationships or whatever it is. All bullshit.”

Rhys felt as though he were invading in something private so he decided it would be best if he slipped out of the bathroom door even when he really wanted to stay--before he heard anything he might regret. He hoped Jack couldn't hear his heart hammering.

Before he could fully exit though, he heard Jack call after him and say, “Don’t you know, Rhys? There's nothing pink or flowery about Valentine's day. Love hurts like a bitch.”  
  
Rhys left.

On his way to the penthouse elevator, he thought he saw a framed picture of a beautiful woman holding a baby girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, let me know how the characters are!


	2. He's planning something (probably)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Jack/Rhys confusion, plus Nancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the slow update for this chapter. This week was day after day of mock exams, but I managed to get free time today to finish this.
> 
> Did I mention this was for PitchJack?

"What do you mean there's a malfunctioning loader?" Jack demanded at the tiny Hyperion technician's hologram glowing from his ECHOcomm, "What do I pay you losers for anyway?"

"It's refusing to wear the roses you ordered, sir. I-it said something about red clashing with yellow a-and..."

"So? What are you contacting me for? Just deactivate it and move on." 

Rhys sighed heavily as he listened to the stammered squeak of, "But s-sir, the manual said I need to request deactivation approval from the CEO for any mechanised product and I thought--"

"Blah, blah, blah, okay, do you want me to tell you what you have to do?"

The PA winced slightly in secondhand embarrassment as he watched the tiny projection of the obvious newbie nod vigorously. This happened a lot actually. The manual handed over to fresh meat was intentionally misleading for fun (it was Jack's idea of a prank, actually). Yet, of all the days for him to call Jack, it was when his mood was the most capricious; the past few days were tough for Rhys as he tried to evade any type of confrontation--even when Jack was perfectly cordial most of the time, he had to exercise caution when the other adopted this unpredictable temperament. 

More so when witnessing him puke his feelings and, quite literally, some of his guts onto Rhys. 

And Rhys wasn't going to lie. The whole ordeal the other day had him incredibly curious. It wasn't news that Jack had lost his wife however many years ago along with his daughter (some even claimed to his own fault) but to have him actually mention it to someone was somewhat of a miracle. The PA heard numerous tales of heads being blown off just for mentioning the word "wife" in Jacks's vicinity. 

To think that Jack was even remotely affected by anything was difficult to grasp, especially when he joyously grilled his employees with pure sadistic glee. 

"Here's what you have to do, cupcake. Number one, kill the bot. Number two, kill yourself." He tutted his finger as the technician began a meek objection, "Ah-ah-ah, now sweetheart, this isn't an either/or thing--I highly suggest doing both if you don't want me to do the honors."

"S-sir, please! Don't--"

"Too late, you've already put the thought in my head," said Jack viciously as he hung the call. Throwing the comm down onto his desk, he let out a small snicker as he leaned back on his chair before noticing Rhys shooting discrete glances towards him, "Oh, what are  _you_ looking at? I'm not actually going to do it."

"Hm," Rhys responded, attempting to be noncommittal.

"I just wanted to scare him a little. Newbies are always fun." 

"Sure thing, Jack." The PA didn't look up from his desk and instead returned to his screen as he typed away, all the while ignoring the pointed stares he was getting. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

After depositing Jack at his penthouse nearly two days ago, the CEO kept looking at Rhys as though he were waiting for some sort of interrogation, or an outburst. Of course, he hadn't implicitly stated it or attempted to broach the topic, yet the long and heated stares were a constant weight--as though Jack wanted Rhys to ask by himself. 

The PA apprehensively watched the clock flicker to two in the afternoon as his teeth worried against his lips. Then, quite suddenly, Rhys thought _fuck it_  and said:

"Hey, Jack?"

Jack, who seemed to be fully engrossed in whatever about Rhys was fascinating him at moment, took a while to answer, "What's up puddin' cup?"

"About--about the um--"  _The other day when you were drunk ranting about your dead wife._ "The meeting with the Maliwan representatives--do you still want me to reschedule that?"

His boss looked at him for several moments, and he tried very hard not to wince at his redundant question. Of course he still wanted a reschedule. Why would he suddenly change his mind?

"Of course I do," said Jack finally after a few tense beats of him raising his eyebrow in scrutiny. To Rhys's surprise, he let the topic go entirely, "So, where is that cup of coffee I asked for, huh? Seems like a soon-to-be fired PA needs to stop slacking and get to work. I expected some coffee on my desk like yesterday." He motioned towards the empty mug he was holding.

Rhys didn't even bother to say that he had never asked for coffee to begin with, but instead, with a practiced indifference and relief at being given a break, stood up to approach his boss. 

His curiosity was going to get him slaughtered at one point. After all, Jack wasn't one to confide. And the other day when he said--whatever the hell that was--he had been under the influence of alcohol and shouldn't really have to be exposed to Rhys's intrusiveness. He felt bad but he really didn't know how to leave it alone. 

Perhaps this was a test? He had been respectfully working under Jack for nearly a year now and that should have garnered him some brownie points. Maybe if he asked it wouldn't be so bad. 

Still, regardless of whatever Jack said that day, he had trusted Rhys to some extent. At least he hoped so. For some reason, he really didn't want to contemplate the reality that maybe Jack was just extremely open and transparent when drunk. And that Rhys just so conveniently happened to be there.

 _I really want to ask,_ he thought despairingly. 

Perhaps this had showed clearly on his face, because as Rhys reached for the mug in Jack's outstretched hand, he felt long fingers grasp around his wrist and pull him forward.

Blinking he stared up at Jack who had stood up quite suddenly from his seat, and pushed himself forward into the PA's space.

"Rhys."

He froze in shock at the lack of nickname.

Jack met his eyes, gaze unwavering as he raised Rhys's hand and passed the mug over gently into the other's slack fingers, "Do you have something you want to say to me?"

Rhys's heart leapt in his chest.

The other man waited and Rhys could only stare dumbly back at him, rigid under the imposing grip.

Then, he felt for a fraction of a second Jack's thumb rubbing gently over his hand--at this his breath stuttered, his body shivering only a fraction, and he saw Jack's shark-like eyes watch this movement with barely contained delight.

He didn't even have the opportunity to formulate a thought when the next thing he knew--

The feeling was gone and Jack had sat back down as though nothing had ever transpired between them. 

* * *

"Yeah that's a tad weird," said Vaughn through the ECHOcomm as he listened to Rhys's rushed spiel, "Has he been acting weird since then?"

"I dunno man!" He replied, at a loss. After Jack had dismissed him from work later that day, he had quickly rushed out and left to sit by himself at the Hub of Heroism, "He's either been completely buried in work or frigging staring at me and honestly, I get enough of that from Nancy as it is."

"Nancy's nice."

Rhys rolled his eyes, "Not the point. Listen, do you know what's going on with him? It's freaking me out--I think I just aged twenty years in the past two days."

"Oh c'mon... you know how Jack is, he's a talker. He'll probably lose interest in a matter of days. Just calm down."

"Yeah, I guess..." Though he secretly didn't want that to be the case for some reason. Not that he'd ever admit to that, "Just a bit weirded out. He grabbed my arm dude."

"Maybe he likes you."

Vaughn had to pull away the ECHOcomm from his ear as Rhys's embarrassed and incoherent protests blasted through the small speakers, "Alright, alright, calm down bro. It's probably just a mood thing. Valentine's day is coming up and you said he hates the thing right? He's probably just stressed."

The PA groaned and buried his face into his flesh hand to cover the remaining redness on his cheeks, hating how much sense his friend was making, "Yeah but it's all so self-induced. Like, even though I'm his PA, he hasn't once asked me to help organize the decorations or -- or whatever he's doing to the loaders." As though on cue, a loaderbot passed by wearing a bowtie, and Rhys could only sigh, "He's just doing all of this even though he hates it."

"Uh, yeah that's the bit that I don't really get. You keep saying he hates the holiday."

"He said it was to boost company morale." 

"How?"

"Dunno, a bunch of people apparently voted for it in the employee poll."

"We have an employee poll?"

"That's exactly what I said!" Rhys gushed out excitedly, before completely deflating, "Yeah, either way, it makes no sense. I mean, why go through all the stress?" 

"Maybe he's scheming something?" hearing Rhys scoff, Vaughn continued, "Oh c'mon, wouldn't that be funny? I bet he's planning something. Seems like a thing that Jack would do. I mean, think about it, why _wouldn't_ he ask you to help him with all the decorations and planning? I think I saw someone set up a flower boutique near Sector 34." 

He had a point.

Jack  _always_ made Rhys do things for him. Even if it was small, he'd always included Rhys in everything, and somehow, this whole Valentine's day gig seemed forced. It was clear that Jack didn't even like it, so why now would he be incited to do it just because of some holiday popularity poll?

Rhys was about to say this to Vaughn, when his mouth snapped shut at the appearance of a familiar face.

"Nancy just got out of the Marketing elevator."

"Oh, nice."

"Vaughnm no. _Not_ nice. She's walking towards my table--"

"Say hi to her for me."

"Wait!"

Vaughn hung up, and Rhys was left to watch her approach with growing dread as she shot him a hesitant smile. Great, there wasn't any use pretending he didn't see her now. He was going to stand up and excuse himself when she pulled at the chair directly opposite him with a polite, "Um, may I sit with you?"

Fighting the urge to say no, Rhys complied and said nothing as she sat down. When she offered another smile, he had to reprimand himself for being so harsh towards her. It wasn't right to assume that she was after him only to pursue him in the romantic sense--that's just too dicky. Maybe she just wanted company.

Schooling his features into a more engaging one, he started, "So Nancy, how was--"

"Do you have any plans for Valentine's day," she blurted. 

Ah.

"Um--"

"Oh god, sorry!" she squeaked, and Rhys found himself taken aback by her uncharacteristic reaction because all women he's ever met on this space station were terrifyingly cut-throat like Yvette. "God, that must have been so strange to hear. I just..."

"You just?"

She flushed a dark shade of red, possibly darker than humanly possible, "I wanted to know if you were free... I know I haven't ever really talked to you, so this may come as a surprise--"

"Well, you _have_ been staring at me for the past week," Rhys found himself saying, before wincing at the implication of his words. God, did he know how not to be a dick?

If possible, she blushed even harder, "Ah... sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't know I was that obvious." Nancy's bottom lip quivered, and buried her face in her hands, making herself really small. _God_ , she was tiny. 

So was this what Vaughn meant when she said she was nice? That she was completely and entirely harmless? 

"Ah, hey, no no no, it's okay," Rhys babbled, reaching a hand over awkwardly to pat her on the shoulder, "I didn't mean anything bad by it! It was just out of the blue, so I guess I just tried to ignore it. Don't worry about it at all!"

She peaked at him from between her fingers, and he saw with growing dread that there was some hope forming in her eyes, "Look, Nancy, the thing is--"

"You've already got plans?" she continued, looking crestfallen. 

"No!" Rhys wanted to slap himself for saying that, "No--I mean, not no? I have no idea. I'm kinda all over the place with my schedules because I have to manage Jack's too. So I might be free? I don't know yet. I'll check sometime." Never, "Haha."

Christ.

As Nancy beamed up at him, he tried to force himself not to outright sigh for the hundredth time that day.

Leaning back on his seat with what felt like the weight of a entire space station bearing down heavily on his shoulders, Rhys tried very hard not to implode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, I swear: more Jack.


	3. I hear noogies are fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised: more Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like every time I write the next chapter, the plot I planned out changes ever so slightly. (Also, there might be a small chance that this fic will end up being longer than five chapters. By a small chance, I mean like 90%, but whatever we'll see).
> 
> Absolutely many thanks to my beta-reader and partner in crime Carol989! She put up with all my dumb filler BS and made this chapter bearable. Kudos to her for writing out that final line by the way!
> 
> Once again, for the marvelous PitchJack.

Rhys tried not to glare at the pile of vibrantly pink presents that started piling up in Jack's office.

It got to the point where he started to suspect that the whole thing was intentional.

Rhys on the other hand, had only received two cards in comparison to his boss's whopping mass of presents. One was a store-bought card from Vaughn saying "happy v-day, bro!! U mean the world 2 me!" in brightly colored ink, and another one from a secret admirer that had signed off with only the initial N.

So not only was he annoyed at the amount of presents the other got, he was also cradling, with slight shame, his own shrinking pride as bachelor.

And it wasn't as though people had never been forward with their advances to Jack before now.

Over the course of his employment, the PA had to filter through countless confession emails, private and graphic pictures that were sent to Jack's work email (in other words, Rhys's email), and even the strangest gift-wrapped packages appeared in the office elevator.

Most of them were burned in the scenario of an assassination attempt, but some of them were too hilarious to throw away.

Jack still keeps this elaborately drawn artwork on his desk of him and Rhys in a passionate embrace. It had appeared in the elevator one day, nicely framed and innocent, and Jack had taken an immediate liking to it.

Apparently they both acquired themselves a secret fanbase of people that, for some god forsaken reason, liked the idea of them together. Not that it ever bothered Rhys--the group was far too small to even make any tangible impact.

Jack didn’t seem to have any issues with their little group of admirers either; sometimes, Rhys thought he enjoyed it way too much. Aside from keeping most of the unusual presents he received, Jack also casually left his computer screen open to the fan page titled as “RHACK” (the fans had somehow congregated to having some sort of forum), though he was unsure what the acronyms RHACK stood for.

Which was strange enough in itself, including the fact that there were moments when Rhys thought Jack mentioned something along the lines of “rack” or “rakk”, unsure on whether he was talking about a coat rack or the flying animals that bred viciously on Pandora.

The frequency of Jack spending time on this page had increased considerably since the approach to Valentine’s Day, but Rhys simply let it go as one of his peculiar tendencies.

What he found considerably infuriating though was the increased arrogant comments at his expense. He could silently tolerate all the attention the CEO was getting, but to have it shoved into his face at every waking moment was a form of slow torture.

He’d catch himself blatantly glaring at the growing pile that Jack left in the office.

And seeing this, the CEO found it to be his duty to taunt him several times a day about it, saying things like, "You jealous, pumpkin?" or, "You want presents too?" as he stood before the mountain of gifts with his hands on his hips, and the stupidest shit-eating grin plastered onto his face.

There were moments that Jack would incessantly badger him and stop him in the middle of working completely just to say, “Hey, look what they got me!” while waving around a stupid pez-dispenser shaped as his head.

Rhys wouldn't grace him with a response and would just roll his eyes, trying to hide his annoyance, and also the fact that he had only received _two_  cards.

The teasing got to the point where Jack spent most of the day peering over Rhys's shoulder, just grinning like a fool while the PA silently tried not to seethe.

“Hey hey, look at me.”

“Jack, can you please…” He tried to gesture at his desk to communicate the amount of work he still had left that day, “I kinda need to do the job you gave me.”

“Oh c’mon, how hard is it to schedule my week for me?”

Rhys didn’t respond. If only he knew the amount of work it takes to organize a working _day._ The CEO canceled (and even spontaneously scheduled) department meetings and important board conferences left and right. 

“Please, Rhysie. Look at meee.”

The PA rolled his eyes and decided to humor the child he had unwittingly found himself babysitting, only to freeze in absolute shock when he felt something metallic poke his cheek.

Jack let out a bark of laughter at the sight of his face, and then pulled back to show him a chrome dildo dangling from his fingers.

“Jack, what the fuck!” Rhys cried, glaring angrily at him.

“Someone sent me this.” Jack explained, gesturing at one of the many open boxes laying scattered around the office as though he hadn’t just outright poked his PA in the face with the most disturbing looking metal dick Rhys had ever seen.

He jumped up out of his seat in fright, when the other fumbled with one of the side buttons and the dildo began to rotate around an axis, and he pointed the damned thing at Rhys’s face with the most manic grin.

“Jack…” Rhys began to say in pure fear, as he watched the intimidating toy spinning fast in his boss’s extended arm, backing away slightly.

The other approached him slowly, seemingly enjoying every second of Rhys’s fright.

“Ever got a noogie from a dick before?”

* * *

 _My hair_.

Rhys had to fumble several times with his computer’s webcam just to fix the disaster Jack had caused upon his hair. It had been an excruciating moment of wrestling with Jack’s far-too enthusiastic hands.

Thank god, they had been right next Rhys’s desk because he managed to salvage any further damage from his hair by quickly snatching the dildo from his boss’s hands, and then signaling Jack’s trap door open to chuck the sodding thing down into its doom.

Much to Jack’s dismay.

“It was chrome-plated so I doubt my trap door is going to do much to it,” the CEO had resolved after a while as he returned to his own desk, “I’ll just get one of the boys down there to fetch it for me.”

“I can’t believe you'd do this!” Rhys whined, looking at himself in his screen and trying to keep the unruly strands back into place, “It takes _ages_ to do my hair.”

“Hey why don’t we open another one--”

“Jack, _no_.”

Rhys didn’t let Jack anywhere near his desk for the rest of the day.

* * *

Perhaps it was a bad idea that Rhys kept pulling out the two cards to read whenever he wanted a good laugh. He had to admit, N-- _who could that be_ , Rhys thought sarcastically--might have been adorable in real life, but a horrible, horrible flirt in writing.

She had written something abominable along the lines of appreciating the "tenacity" of his hair and the "juxtaposition" of his two opposing eyes. It didn’t necessarily tickle his interest, but he was incredibly flattered… and incredibly amused. Her writing was absolute garbage.

But then again, she was still a pretty girl, so any type of flirting was well appreciated.

Jack didn’t seem to share his sentiments.  
  
The PA has been doing his work as diligently as he could with a set of eyes digging at his back, when he nearly jumped at the sudden weight of a hand coming down onto his shoulder.

"Hey, Rhysie."

He hid the leap of fear in his heart at the sound of the other's voice, "...yes, Jack?"

"Saw you put some cards in your drawer earlier, let me see."

All tension left Rhys's body at this. Of course. He was just being an ass as always, trying to shove his presents into Rhys's face.

"C'monnn. I wanna know who sent it. Who's your secret admirer?"

"Jack, it's literally from Vaughn. You know, my best bro? The most platonic relationship I've ever had in my life since my mom gave birth to me?"

The other only raised their eyebrow at him, "Yeah, okay. But did he send you two cards? I don't think so. Who sent the other one?"

"What, that's--" Rhys had finally turned to him at that point, realizing how closely Jack must have been observing him to notice the amount of cards he got, "that's private! It's a secret admirer for a reason, Jack. I don't want to compromise this person's feelings." Also, "N" AKA Nancy was adorable as shit, and it wasn't nice to make her cry.

"Sure thing. Now show it to me."

Rhys rolled his eyes and quickly grabbed Vaughn's card from his drawer and threw it back into Jack's face, forgetting his formalities from all the craziness happening all week.

There was a short satisfying fumble as he ignored Jack open the card and then huff, "You know what I mean. The other one. Also your friend doesn't know how to spell, who hired him?"

"Jack, no. I'm not showing you the card," said Rhys, expecting a backlash from his boss. When he received only silence, he blinked and turned back, only to have a hand reach swiftly for his drawer handle with all the intention of opening it and taking Nancy's card.

“Oi!”

Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Rhys stood quickly and intercepted Jack's hand, grasping his arm and holding it in place to prevent the other from pulling the drawer back. He turned to glare pointedly at Jack, only to find him way too close for comfort.

Suddenly he felt his throat close up, and his movements far too jerky. The chair he had been sitting on before rolled away from his sudden actions, and now it seemed as though there was nothing in the way between him and the other man.

“Who sent it?” Jack asked again, eyes strangely serious. He made no move to pull his hand away from Rhys’s hold, but the PA could feel oddly the erratic pulse on the other’s wrist that contradicted the solid demeanor.

Rhys had the feeling that revealing Nancy’s identity would have very bad consequences. Whether for him, or for Nancy, his boss’s eyes held a deadly quality to them that he really didn’t want to test.

“Jack, you know I can’t do that... besides, it’s just a card. I’m not really into this person at all.” He didn’t know why he had to explain himself like this, but the other’s adamance was petrifying.

“You seem oddly protective, if you ask me,” Jack questioned, raising his eyebrows.

At this, Rhys raised a firm hand to push at the other’s shoulder in warning, “And you seem oddly intrusive.” He raised his own eyebrows in challenge, “If you ask me, that is.”

They stared at each other.

“I’m going to find out who the hell you’re so jazzed up about, Rhysie,” Jack said after a while, pulling away from the other man, “Don’t think I didn’t see you smiling at it like an idiot.”

Finally able to breath, Rhys shook his head, “As I said Jack, it’s no one important.”  
  
The CEO exited the office for a quick smoke, leaving his PA to wonder what the fucking big deal was.

* * *

The events of yesterday had been strangely forgotten.

When Rhys arrived the next day to the office, he was surprised to see Jack harboring no ill-will or further invasion of his (and Nancy’s) privacy. Instead, it was a surreal backtrack of Jack griping on and on about the amount of presents he had received.

He’d sectioned off some of the gifts to the far side of the office due to how much space they were taking, so much so, that there was even a fear that an avalanche of boxes would kill them both at one point.

Needless to say, it was all the same formula of Jack’s incessant complaints that drove Rhys over the edge.

“Look at all these presents, Rhysie,” he grumbled, tossing some boxes about and ripping some cards off from the wrapping paper. He might as well have been talking to himself with how he hardly waited for the other to respond.

“Do these jerks really think that the CEO has time for any of this crap?” There was another slam, and Rhys jolted in his seat at the sensation of Jack getting closer and closer to him. He realized with a start that Jack had marched over to him to reach past his shoulder to flick the switch of the trap door open.

He threw over several small boxes as though he were playing basketball, “Just makes anyone think they can send what they want up to my office, you know?”

Rhys glowered at his screen, increasingly annoyed not only at the others complete disregard of other’s time and effort, but with his unrelenting discontent with absolutely  _anything_.

“And the _decorations_. God, Helios is practically made of pink hearts at this point.”

“Then why are you doing all this, if you hate the holiday so much?” Rhys demanded, swivelling his seat around to fully face Jack and glare up at him, “And why keep the gifts piled up all over the your place? How hard is it to have staff reject them instead sending it all in here?”

The other looked taken aback by his sudden outburst, and with startling recognition, he realized he had never spoken to his boss in that way before.

Jack remained silent, seemingly at odds with himself for what he was going to say. If Rhys hadn’t been staring at him so intently, he would have missed the quiet, “You still haven’t gotten me anything though.”

Ah.

Dumbstruck, Rhys blinked rapidly at him, mind firing in a million different directions as to what that sentence could infer. None of them being anything good.

_Did he mean--_

“Did you mean--” Rhys’s words got caught in his throat. Had Jack been _waiting_ for him to give him something? Was that the whole point of this? “You want a gift?” He swallowed thickly, “From me?”

At this, Jack actually seemed to get quite mad. His eyebrows furrowed and he glared right back at Rhys’s hilariously stupefied expression, “A gift? Of all things, sweetheart, a gift? You really have _no_ idea do you? Why would I even want something if I can already have it?”

Rhys did not want to contemplate or even try to understand whatever the hell that even meant.

Somewhat uneasy at Jack’s towering position over him, Rhys clambered to his feet to meet him head to head, trying to defuse some of the unnecessary tension that had weirdly built up.

He tried to use his company man voice, “Listen Jack, I know you’re kinda upset--”

“Oh, shut the hell up, Rhys.”

Oops. He should have figured that Jack was the king of corporate bullshit. Didn’t seem like there was any room to reason his way out apart from just standing there and waiting for Jack to decide on god knows whatever the fuck.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, far too close, and far too warm. He could feel his hearing thrumming in his ears, and even the act of breathing seemed almost mechanical now as he even grew conscious of how his face fell with Jack so near to him, able to see every change of expression.

At one point, it felt like they would stand there all day.

Rhys sneaked a glance to figure out whether his corporate overlord had turned into stone, when he froze at the sight of Jack staring so intensely at him that even his inside jittered in something akin to excitement.

Excitement?

Over what--

"Um." Rhys shifted his gaze away, heart hammering brutally in his chest at the realization that the other had began to sidle closer, bringing his arm to Rhys's left side to trap him by the desk. With a start, he realized that Jack's free hand had come to softly stroke at his side.

His mistake was looking back up at Jack--perhaps it was to ask what the hell they were even doing, or maybe even to tell him to move away--but he had met the other's gaze, his eyes shifting down briefly to look at Jack's lips--

And for a second, he really thought Jack was going to kiss him.

And Rhys really thought he was going to let him.

Not that fate had anything to say about it though, because the next thing he knew, the sound of Jack’s personal ringtone shattered the moment.

In mid-motion, Jack paused, looking absolutely murderous as he reached into his jacket to pull out his comm. At the sight of the caller on screen, Jack’s eyes looked positively deadly as he stepped away from his PA, and answered with a frighteningly cheerful, “Why Maliwan, I’ve got a great surprise lined up for you…”

Rhys nearly let the ground swallow him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish me luck on my exams, I'm gonna friggin' dieeeeeeeeee.


	4. How to court someone 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack doesn't know how to properly court someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to get some free time today. The last three weeks were just exams. I've taken so many papers that my life has just been my bed and the library (and occasionally The Shady Gas Station with Caro989). 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter ended up being 8k words so I cut it, and I'll update the rest as soon as I can. Sorry for the wait guys. And uh, yeah, me cutting up this chapter means there's going to be like seven to eight chapters in total. I really suck at this whole estimating the amount of chapters thing. 
> 
> For the wonderful PitchJack.

Rhys stopped thinking that he had Jack figured out a long time ago.

It had always been a hassle to relearn everything he thought he understood about Jack.

One day he was one thing, and the next day, he was another. It was a constant back and forth of perplexing emotions and, early in his career, Rhys had just decided to take whatever Jack did in stride no matter all the unpredictable behavior.

This made it easier for him to deal with Jack – to not let everything the CEO did matter that much to him. It meant that he had at least some power left for himself so that he wasn’t affected by the other’s wild tendencies anymore. And maybe that was for the best.

Because there was no denying that whatever had occurred in that office had been an attempted kiss.

It wasn’t as though Rhys was stupid enough to not understand what that look in Jack’s eyes meant -- or even, what would have happened had Maliwan not decided to call at that moment.

Did it make his heart jump in weird places whenever he thought about it? Of course it did. Did he silently hope those lips were on him during inopportune times? How could he not.

But the real question though, did it mean anything?

The answer was probably no.

After that almost-kiss incident at the office, Jack didn’t mention anything about it the following day. Like clockwork, everything was forgotten. And as frustrating as that was, Rhys somewhat accepted it as fact, expected it even.

Rhys always had to deal with learning and relearning everything he knew about Jack. It didn’t come as a surprise now anymore -- after all, having to settle for the worst-case scenario was a required mindset when working under such a man.  

So when Rhys dressed himself in his pajamas the follow evening to get ready for bed, he didn't expect his ECHOcomm to blink open, signaling an unopened notification from the said boss.

On his screen was the message:    

 

> _Maliwan wants to have a meeting over dinner. Come dressed pretty @ 8:00pm. I'm sending you the restaurant waypoint on your ECHOmap._
> 
> _HJ._

 

He'd turned to look at the digital watch above his desk. It read 7:58pm.

Rhys scrambled.

* * *

He found himself out of breath in some fancy restaurant on one of the higher levels of Helios, staring motionlessly at the small table-for-two set before him.

Jack stared back at him from where he sat, an expectant brow raised, “Well? Are you going to sit down or what?”

He didn’t move.

“What’s your tie doing in your pants? Thought I told you to dress pretty.”

Rhys should really stop trying to understand how Jack’s brain works. It might be better to just have all his feelings towards the other man surgically removed.

Which was probably the only mildly comforting thought that kept him sane right now, seeing as none of the "meeting's representatives” happened to be in sight

"Where's Maliwan?"

There was a short pause before Jack stood up, eyes gleaming with mischief, as he said rather cryptically, "There was a small hold-up with their spacecraft so they'll be a while. I thought we could start eating."

"Right," Rhys mumbled quietly, as he marched over to sit down. Before he could pull out the chair himself though, the other man had somehow circled the small table and pulled it out himself.

"Sir?"

Jack glared at him as he gestured firmly at the chair, "Sit down."

Quickly snatching the menu from the table, Rhys reluctantly sunk down onto the seat, letting Jack push him in, "Riight."

Handsome Jack just pulled out a chair for him. His _boss_ Handsome Jack.

He was going to fucking die.

Conscious of the other sitting back down across from him, he cursed the fucking heavens for whichever god thought it was hilarious to play with his head like this. If this wasn't weird enough, the fact that Jack had chosen only a table-for-two triggered red flags in Rhys's head.

Was he going to be poisoned? Did he go one sarcastic comment too far? Or was this Jack's idea of a joke just to see Rhys's reactions? He thought he had thoroughly convinced Jack before within two months into his PA job that he wasn't _that_ big of a fanboy. But perhaps now it was all a matter of testing him.

Theories swarming in his head, he started with a jolt as he heard something clink and immediately put down the menu to gape at Jack.

"What are you doing?"

His boss looked at him as though _he_ were the strange one, paused in the action of tipping a pitcher over Rhys's glass, "Pouring you some water?"

"Oh." Rhys replied dumbly, eyes comically wide in genuine bafflement. "Why?"

He watched as the other's eyebrows furrowed, "So that you have water?"

_Oh my god._

At the look on his face, his boss actually sighed, leaning back on his chair with a highly irritated expression, "Why are you making this so frickin' difficult? Am I like, incapable of being a gentleman or something?"

"No! No, that's not--" Rhys noticed the rest of the restaurant was looking at them both so he quieted down, "Sorry, it was just strange. Nevermind."

Though Jack looked increasingly annoyed at this, he remained perfectly cordial as he waited for the younger man to choose what to order.

Peeking over the menu, Rhys activated his ECHOeye just to make sure it wasn't a body double he was dining with.  

 

> **ANALYSIS COMPLETE**
> 
> **Name:** Handsome "John" Jack
> 
> **Age:** 38
> 
> **Occupation:** Your boss
> 
> **Heart rate:** Elevated
> 
> **Dick size** \--

 

"Are you done?"

"Yes!" Hurriedly, he shut down his eye and pointed at the least expensive meal on the menu lest he devastate his wallet. And even then it maxed out to at least over fifty dollars.

"Why're you getting that? That's like the equivalent of a happy meal. Get some more meat in your bones, kid."

"Um... well, I'm not exactly swimming in cash right now." He paused at the sight of Jack's eyes narrowing, before quickly saying, "Ah, but I'll go try out the rest of the menu some other time when I get my salary or something."

"What are you even saying, sweetheart? _I'm_ the one who's paying."

Rhys stared blankly at him, "S-sorry could you repeat that? I could have sworn you said--"

"That I'm paying? Yeah. Now order something before I just buy everything on the menu."

Shock reeling through him, he tried to protest, "Sir! You can't be serious! I don't think--" only to be cut off by the sound of his stomach grumbling and Jack's withering glare.

“Like I said Rhys, I’ve got it covered.”

He may have choked several times in the middle of saying it, but he managed a terrified, “Thanks, Jack.”

What is happening.

Why was his boss acting so damn strange? And why was he looking at Rhys like that?

In between flagging down a waiter and sipping on his wine, Jack had been staring at him heatedly like he was something to eat -- which he sincerely hoped was just some sort of strange side-effect of being hungry. Because.

Because what was he going to do if it was the alternative?

The possibility that Handsome Jack may or may not have the hots for him? And he may or may not have the hots for him back?

 _Or,_  his brain uselessly supplied, _the fact that you keep thinking about that almost-kiss thing in the office?_

It wasn’t as though he purposely wanted to stomp down all hopes that Jack could ever feel something remotely close to romantic interest -- or even think about wanting to take things seriously with Rhys. He just didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences of being wrong.

What if Jack _did_ attempt to kiss him, but it was purely based on physical attraction?

Would he be able to deal with that?

Needless to say, things got even more unsettling after they both ordered their meals.

Rhys tried to look anywhere but at Jack as he laughed to himself awkwardly, trying to scour his brain for anything to talk about, "Haha, hey um. They sure are taking their time."

Maybe Jack would be misdirected from all this weird behavior if he remembered to be angry at their late guests.

"Who?" The other looked genuinely confused.

"Um, Maliwan?"

"Oh, right." said Jack pensively, seeming as though he forgot all about the meeting, "Them."

Rhys sat there in agonized restlessness, wanting to be back in his bed with his Hyperion issued pyjamas.

It was difficult to place what about the atmosphere was unsettling. Rhys couldn't even breath properly. Being in such close spaces next to his boss made his heart palpitate in ways that made him question his own health.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was sitting eye-to-eye with Jack without any obstructions or PA duties to attend to. He was so completely and hilariously out of his element -- and he couldn't brush Jack off by telling him to go back to work or even pretend to be doing his job to avoid confrontation.

And there was also the fact that Jack's feet were touching his.

Searching his brain rapidly for conversational topics that didn't end and begin with the phrase 'get me out of here,' Rhys quickly blurted, "So, um, what's a rack?"

Recalling the other’s browsing history in this fabled “RHACK” forum, Rhys supposed that it was a viable route of conversation. Right?

Jack's ministrations against his legs actually stopped and he found himself staring dumbly at his boss as the other promptly began to laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing," finally, during the whole time he was there, Jack actually smiled genuinely at him as he normally would in the office, "You're just so friggin' _clueless_. It's hilarious."

"I'm not the one who keeps talking about -- about breasts all the time."

His boss's incredulous laughter grew louder, "Breasts?"

"Yeah, rack means breasts, right? That's what you keep talking about?"

"Oh my god, you -- " Jack hunched over onto the table, chuckling to himself with a sudden burst of giddiness. He didn't even seem to mind that he was drawing the attention of the whole restaurant with his boisterous behavior, "Don't ever change. Oh my god. _Breasts_."

Turning vaguely red, and also very much confused, Rhys pouted and reached to drink from his glass, waiting for the other's laughter to finish.

"Sweetheart, if I wanted to see breasts, I could just walk out my office and tell someone to take their shirt off. Breasts are nothing special. _You,_ on the other hand," Jack pointed a finger, finally grinning at him, "are goddamn hilarious."

Rhys flushed, not knowing what that meant, but not having the courage to ask.  

"Thanks? I guess?"

“No no no, I'm serious here Rhysie, I’ve never met someone who’s so fun to --” Jack gestured vaguely, unable to find the right words. And his dining partner looked at him quizzically as he reached for something in his head, “Make fun of? I dunno, harass? You just make it so easy for me to annoy you. It’s adorable.”

Rhys tried not to look genuinely put-out by that.

“Hey hey hey, don’t get all pouty on me,” Jack said, still grinning, legs shifting again under the table, “I meant it as a complement. Don’t you kids like hearing that nowadays? Being called cute and stuff?”

Well, at least it seemed as though one of them was feeling relatively better. And the atmosphere did seem a lot lighter now, though Rhys still had to stop himself from visibly sulking.

They really needed to talk about this.

“Look Jack, I don’t really…” He began, catching the other’s attention, when he paused briefly to see the waiter coming out of a set of doors (presumably from the kitchen) with their order in one hand. Glad for the delay to sort out his thoughts, he even gave a small smile to the waiter when they arrived to set down the food, “That was fast.”

“Only the best for the CEO and their date,” said the waiter with a wink.

Color flooded his cheeks, and Rhys fumbled to reply, not even having the time to protest when their server turned promptly on their heel and strode off.

“Wow uh,” Clearing his throat, he willed the red in his face to disappear, “This looks great.”

“Huh. Yeah, great,” mumbled Jack dismissively, only to press about his unfinished sentence, “What were you saying before? You don’t really what?”

Fuck.

“Umm,” What should he say? Don’t make fun of me? Stop messing with my feelings? Or worse yet, the truth? “I just wanted to say… I don’t appreciate being toyed with.” He glanced down at his food, suddenly not as hungry as he was before. He could practically feel Jack’s gaze boring into him, “I know you really like messing with people and all but, I--uh, I don’t think it’s good to be toying with someone you’re not serious about.”

“ _Toying_?”

Rhys gnawed at his lower lip, trying to formulate a thought that didn’t result in him getting fired -- and when he looked up, he saw the other’s eyes starting to fixate on his mouth, “You know what I mean... the other day in the office you --”

“I what? Tried to kiss you?”

His heart leapt, “Y-yeah. Actually.”

Suddenly his whole world disappeared from under his feet. Two large hands wrapped around his wrists, holding them both down onto the table. He found himself looking up in shock at his boss, unsure whether he should be terrified or aroused.

God.

Not again.

“Is that what you thought that was, Rhysie? What this whole thing is? _Toying_ with you?” The words were said so quietly, but with so much conviction that the PA felt his breathing stutter.

“I-I--um, I dunno, I figured--”

“Figured what?” Jack hissed through gritted teeth, “That I’d tap you once and just drop you after I’m done? Is that what you think of me?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly try to convince me otherwise,” Rhys said, pleading his heartbeat to slow down lest he rupture an artery or die from cardiac arrest, “Anytime anything happened, you’d just--you’d just act like nothing happened. So I assumed that it was just a heat of a moment deal… am I wrong?”

Hetero-chromatic eyes traveled across his face as though memorizing everything about him. When he looked up, their gazes locked and he was met with flashes of the other day. They weren't at the restaurant anymore. They weren't surrounded by other diners anymore. It was just him and Jack.

“I don’t know how dense you have to fucking be not to get this, Rhysie. But I don’t just do shit like this on a whim. Got that?”

“Y-yes?” He stuttered.

"Good. As long as you understand at least _t_ _hat_ much." 

Why the hell did this man always have to be so cryptic -- so vague? He didn’t just do shit like _what_ on a whim? This? Asking Rhys to meet Maliwan representatives with him over fine wine and a full-course meal?

Nonetheless, he felt himself blush, and seeing this, Jack actually winked at him.

The CEO let him go after a while, “Why don’t we dig in, eh kid? All this tension isn’t good for your health. And we can’t have you getting skinnier than you already are.”

Not wanting to incite another crazed reaction from the other man, Rhys did as he was told and started to eat.

They enjoyed the majority of dinner in companionable silence, though they did end up talking at one point about work (which unfortunately, seemed unavoidable when it came to them) and shared brief stories about their lives -- Jack about his time as a programmer, and Rhys about his shenanigans with Vaughn in college. Neither of them mentioned the fact that Maliwan didn’t even show up.

When it came to finishing up probably the best cooked meal he’d ever had in his whole life, Rhys was surprised again to find that Jack was willing to walk him home.

Given the fact that his flat was all the way on the other side of Helios, and probably didn’t seem all that impressive from the outside, he felt both reluctant and cautious.

But Jack’s requests couldn't exactly be contested.

He eventually found himself standing by his front door, his twice-over boss beside him in patient silence. They’d been thankfully talking the whole way back about something or the other, and now it was as though the CEO was just done with talking completely.

“Hey uh,” Rhys turned to face the other, scratching the back of his head with a forced smile, “Thanks for walking me back. You didn’t really have to.”

“Don’t mention it kid.”

Silence.

Swallowing thickly, Rhys stepped back and reached for his doorknob, feeling quite out of place next to Jack, “Sooooo, um, thanks. Yeah, okay, I’ll see you back in the office tomorrow!” he squawked hurriedly, eager to leave the anxious atmosphere once and for all.

A larger hand came down on top of his own holding onto the knob.

Turning to look at the other with his heart nearly ready to do somersaults in his stomach, Rhys’s eyes widened as he saw Jack had moved silently behind him and now had him trapped between the door and the other’s chest.

With his other hand coming up to rest on Jack’s lapels, he watched, with growing thrill, his boss leaning down towards him slowly.

And then they were kissing.

It wasn’t a deep or urgent kiss like how he’d always imagined it to be. With how smoldering the CEO’s gaze was, he half expected it to be almost a battle -- but this was just a brief touch. Just Jack’s hand over his own, and the other hand below his chin, tipping it up to meet the other’s lips.

Then Jack moved away with a “Good night, Rhys” before turning around to walk back down the hall.

Even after he heard the elevator ping from the other side of the hall, Rhys stood there frozen for nearly half a minute, shoulder pressed against the metal threshold behind him, hand tight around the knob.

Quite suddenly, he turned it, and threw open the door with perhaps too much vigor, before crying out:

“Vaughn! _Holy shit_ , Vaughn!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you guys think! I love talking to people in this fandom. 
> 
> Also, I really do apologize for my sporadic updates.
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr? [[X]](http://croisscunt.tumblr.com/).


	5. Started from the bottom now we're... still at the bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comic relief with homeboy Vaughn (feat. Yvette), starring a classic Jack fuck-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my buddy Vaughn and how awful he is at giving advice.
> 
> It's the moment you've all been waiting for folks. Seriously, it's been this fic's summary for a while now.

"Vaughn! _Holy shit,_ Vaughn!"

Rhys rushed through the door, nearly stumbling over his feet to get into his living room.

"Whoa, what the -- Rhys?" he saw Vaughn's head snap towards him from his position on the couch, seeing his friend's obvious distress. Cautiously standing up, he said, “What’s gotten into you?”

Probably looking ready to combust, Rhys strode forward without a word and barreled into his friend in embrace. Clearly weirded out, the other took the hug like a trooper and patted him awkwardly on the back.

“Uh, you alright, buddy?” he asked worriedly after a while, pulling away to grip Rhys’s arms and look up at him more clearly in the face, “Did something happen?”

“Ijustkissedmyboss.”

“You what?”

“My boss,” Rhys said through gritted teeth, confusion and shock evident in his voice, “Jack. I just kissed him.”

“Oh… holy shit.”

“Yeah.” The PA affirmed breathlessly before moving away to land clumsily on the couch, burying his face in his hands, “Oh god, ohhh god. I’m so confused right now.”

“Wait, wait, wait, how did this happen? Did you kiss him? Did he kiss you? Was this accidental? What’s going on here?”

“Well, to be fair, I’m kinda fuzzy on the details right now considering it literally _just_ happened. But yeah, he was the one who kissed me.” Rhys paused, before slapping a hand over his forehead, “Oh my god, I just kissed my boss!”

“Hang on, are you telling me that I was just sitting here while my best friend was making out with _the_ Handsome Jack outside my door?”

He sputtered, “I wasn’t -- I wasn’t making out with him! That’s a--that’s a strange of way of putting it--”

“I can’t believe I was sitting here while you were out canoodling.”

“ _Canoodling?_ ”

“At my front-door too? I feel so violated right now--”

“That’s _our_ front door Vaughn.” Rhys corrected, “And that’s not the problem here! I just kissed Handsome Jack!”

“Okay, well I thought you’d be more happy about it?” Vaughn said, plopping down to sit beside his friend, “You were practically his biggest fan in college. I don’t get what’s got you so rattled.” There was a short pause, and the other man actually started to look quite angry, “Unless he forced himself on you?”

“Ah, no no no. It was -- um, it was nice. It wasn’t against my consent or anything.”

“Oh. Then?”

Rhys sighed, “I dunno. I’m just--aghhh,” he scrubbed his hands over his face in dread, “I don’t know man.”

“Rhys is just embarrassed,” said a knowing voice from behind him.

In surprise, Rhys turned on his position from his couch to see Yvette standing by their open bathroom door, fresh from the shower with a towel around her neck.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention Yvette just got here like twenty minutes ago,” Vaughn supplied unhelpfully.

“As I live and breath,” she grinned, striding forward in one of Rhys’s old pajamas, “I don’t think I’ve seen you this excited since prom in junior year.”

Momentarily forgetting the kiss, Rhys shot to his feet and quickly circled the couch to launch himself at his other best friend. Laughing as she stumbled back from her friend’s sudden weight, she wrapped her arms around him, “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re too tall now to jump into my arms?”

“Yvette!” Rhys said in genuine excitement, “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t due back until two months!”

“Had some favors that people owed me,” she winked, before waggling her eyebrows at him, “But that’s not really what I want to talk about right now. I overheard something about a kiss?”

“Yes,” Rhys deflated, “And I only had Vaughn as mental support for like four months.”

“Hey!” his other friend interjected from behind the cushions.

“Vaughn’s got the romantic affinity of a doorknob,” Yvette tsked, “I wouldn’t count on him for advice.”

“Ah, I see. You guys are ganging up on me now. Great.”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“Alright, alright, stop.” Rhys interjected, bodily placing himself between the two to stop further conversation, “I need help, Yvette. Jack’s been weird recently, and I don’t mean like usual, I mean like--like,” he visibly flushed, “kissing me and buying me dinner kinda weird.”

Yvette walked past him to lean back onto the couch with a thoughtful hum, “Guess he fancies the pants out of you.”

“Right?” Vaughn said from his now lying position on the couch, “Told him that last week. But apparently, Vaughn gives crappy advice.”

“Shut up Vaughn,” Rhys hissed, just as Yvette said, “You’re really not helping.”

“Look, this whole thing has been weirdly sudden. He didn’t used to uh, flirt -- I guess? With me? Not until this whole Valentine’s day hype turned up.”

“Flirt? Like how?”

 _Like giving me a noogie with a dildo_ , he thought despairingly.

He cleared his throat, “Well, he bought me dinner for one. And he also kept bothering me about those cards I got.”

They both ignored Vaughn’s muffled exclamation of, “Oh hey, that was me!”

“I thought Jack would be the type to be straightforward about this whole thing. Has he said anything about being interested in you?”

“See, that’s the thing Yvette. It’s Jack. If he’s interested in me, I’m pretty damn sure I’d know by now. Right? I mean we’re grown adults, it’s not like he’d be… I dunno, weird about it,” Rhys trailed off with an awkward laugh.

“I’m not exactly sure Rhys,” Yvette said, “I will say this though. Be careful. I don’t quite trust the guy completely considering his reputation. I heard his last stable relationship ended with his wife and kid dying from ‘mysterious circumstances.’ Seems fishy if you ask me.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m never going to be in a relationship with Jack so let’s just push that off the table completely. Second of all, the guy seems really upset about his wife still, I mean… I kinda found him drunk once and agonizing on and on about it.”

Vaughn immediately sat up and stared at him wide-eyed, shocking Rhys in the process, “ _What?_ ”

“Jesus Christ, dude! Could you not --”

“You saw Handsome Jack _drunk?_ Holy crap.”

“Probably the only one who lived to tell the tale,” Yvette commented cryptically.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“The dude gets real violent with alcohol man, just ask his ex-girlfriend. She runs several bars in Pandora and Elpis. Probably why they ended up breaking it off.”

“I’m surprised you made it out in one piece. Can’t imagine Jack to be the kind of guy not to deal out his emotions on someone else.” She turned to him finally, “Did you know that Jack killed about fifteen personal assistants before you?”

Rhys sighed, “Yes, I’m well aware.”

“Well you’ve been working for him for a little bit over a year now. Maybe that means something?”

“Look, I know what you’re both getting at, and okay, maybe there _is_ some attraction going on here. But think about the stakes guys. Say I bring him flowers and ask him out on a date -- what if he shoots me in the face? What about then?”

“Ooh, you’re going to ask him out with flowers? Classic, bro.”

“I’m saying ‘if’ here! And also shut up, you’re not part of this discussion.”

“I don’t think that’s likely to happen, Rhys. Given the fact that he’s let you live for this long without exploding on you once -- I think that warrants some leeway.”

“And he also bought you dinner.”

Yvette shushed Vaughn harshly, before turning back to her other friend, “So, pull some weight here, Rhys. Buy him some flowers. Talk to him about it -- like an adult. He’s already done some for you, maybe it’s time to man up a little and deal some yourself?”

“I dunno… you really think so?”

“Okay, but first of all... flowers? Why not go with something less cliche like poetry? Maybe write him a short story.”

“Vaughn. Do me a favor and shut up?”

“I think flowers are a pretty safe bet,” his better, wiser friend said calmly, “You’ve got to do this properly Rhys. No more squirming around the idea. You’re going in this with something specific in mind, so don’t let yourself be derailed into something else. Got that?”

Sighing heavily as he let himself fall over from behind the couch and land upside-down next to Vaughn with his legs dangling awkwardly over the back of the couch, he droned out a tired, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wow, I never mentioned this before but like, she’s got you pretty whipped.”

Rhys snatched one of the cushions beside him and flung it at Vaughn’s face, “What part of --” he threw another, “Shut up--" More cushions followed, "Don’t you understand?” 

* * *

Even though Jack had always told Rhys to use the private lift to his penthouse, he had never used it apart from that time he dropped drunk Jack off nearly a week ago.

And he wasn't going to now either. It wasn't like he could just appear randomly at his boss's place unannounced.

With _flowers_ of all things.

This was how he found himself standing idly outside Jack's front door like an actual visitor, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet with a nicely wrapped bouquet in his trembling fingers.

He'd received some strange looks from Meg, Jack's other assistant, who kept tabs on anyone that wanted to visit the penthouse -- he could actually see the questions shooting like steak-knives from her eyes: _Why don't you just use the private lift? What are those flowers for?_

But no, he had to do this right.

This being asking out his potentially murderous and unpredictable boss who had frequent bouts of violent tendencies and was famed to have airlocked employees that were unfortunate enough to face his wrath. If Rhys ever had a death wish, this would be the closest he would ever get to it.

But he was also the Jack that made him laugh really hard during meetings, and made his heart race like no one else. He was capable of having Rhys so acutely intertwined in between his fingers and managed to drive him insane all the time with his penchant for strangeness. Yet, there was never a dull moment with Jack. And try as he might to deny it, he’d always been a huge fanboy (not that he'd ever admit to it now).

There was nothing he could do about the fact that he fancied the fucking pajamas out of Handsome Jack.

His finger hovered over Jack's doorbell.

It had an expensive looking interface above it that he presumed to be Jack's way of seeing who was at his door. Just barely, Rhys could make out his own nervous face reflected back at him from the screen, and he suddenly regretted not changing into something nicer before he picked up the flowers after work.

He reached over to press the button.

"Fifty, Nisha. I got _fifty_  bouquets delivered into my penthouse in the past three hours. Do you know how many flowers that is? My kitchen’s turned into the goddamn amazon rain forest."

Rhys stilled.

Jack?

He was barely audible -- as though Jack was seated in one of his living room couches near the entryway -- but he continued saying, "I swear to god Nish, the next person to give me flowers is going to be airlocked straight into Elpis. Right where that stupid lava crack is."

Rhys's eyes snapped down to the flowers in his hands, and then to the interface above the bell that, funnily enough, had a screensaver of Pandora's moon on it. He swallowed thickly.

Through the door, a harsh electronic laughter sounded from what seemed to be some speakers -- perhaps Jack's comm, and the PA could just barely make out the words, "Thought you'd be all for the attention, Jackie."

"It's annoying."

"Because you're only after _one_ person's attention, am I right?"

"Oh shut up, Nish," Jack growled. "I'm telling you, it's working."

"Is it really though? How much progress have you made since last week?"

There was a moment where Jack didn't speak, and Rhys panicked, thinking that he had somehow been found out, "... I've been busy with decorations."

"And getting drunk?"

"Would you let that go? I don't think you'll ever let that go."

"You _puked_."

She had a point. Whatever they were talking about, that is.

"I thought I'd start a conversation with some alcohol. You know, fine wine..."

"I'm pretty sure whiskey isn't fine wine. And I'm also pretty sure being drunk before the conversation even took place isn't a getting you any closer."

"I was fucking nervous okay!" Jack's voice shouted from inside the penthouse, "And I haven't had a good drink in a while with how this company constantly needs me to wipe its ass."

"Oh, Jackie... how hard is it to just talk to someone? It's better than whatever extravagant nonsense you've got lined up."

"Trust me Nish, it's going to be fine. I've got everything planned out." There was brief silence, "So long as I get this whole shit finished without some douchenozzle _clogging up my mailbox with stupid flowers._ "

“Ya know, I didn’t think there’d come a day where you’d feel this strongly about flowers.”

“Oh shut up, I’m honestly finished with these nutjobs. Why do they think I would spare them even a glance with just flowers? Not a single one of them knows me, and suddenly, just ‘cause it’s Valentine’s Day, it’s like everyone suddenly thinks they’ve got even the slightest chance.”

Rhys turned around just as he heard, “I’ve got no time for this lovey-dovey romance bullshit, Nish. The next ‘secret admirer’ is getting a bullet to the face.”

* * *

Well.

Rhys walked right out of there with Meg drilling curious holes into the back of his head.

The elevator ride back down to the Hub of Heroism was an embarrassing one. Coupled with his sagging shoulders and huge bouquet, passengers that got on and off different floors sent Rhys sympathetic looks. If only they knew _who_ he was going to ask, though. They'd probably be congratulating him right now.

Of bloody course Jack wouldn't want shitty flowers. He had enough money to buy himself a diamond pony for all he cared about floral arrangements.

And from Rhys for that matter?

God that was the most impulsive thing he'd ever done. It was probably for the best too that he was shot down before even having the chance to ask -- considering the fact that Jack would have killed him in a heartbeat.

Not letting himself be at all depressed about this until he got back to the safety of his room, he just sighed.

The moment the elevator doors opened up, he was surprised to see the hub bustling with people -- it was already past seven. Was no one going home? Not seeing Vaughn and Yvette -- or anyone he particularly liked, he furrowed his eyebrows and conceded to going back to his apartment to brood instead of mingling.

A movement at his peripheral caught his attention.

Someone who had been looking at him had turned swiftly away and was now ducking their head down. Turning to see who it was, Rhys saw Nancy sitting by herself in one of the back tables, looking quite put-out.

Sighing, he made his way towards her.  

"Hey, Nancy..."

She jolted in her seat and turned around to look at him with slight shock at being approached. At the sight of the flowers in his hands she let out a barely audible squeak (that he tried very hard not to find cute, but Jesus Christ she was like a tiny hamster).

"Oh! Hey! Rhys!" She failed terribly at sounding casual, and grew redder as her eyes rapidly shifted several times between his face and the bouquet, "Flowers! Um, that's... that's cool. I thought you already had a -- I didn't know you were going to--" she cleared her throat, "--with me. That is..."

He blinked at her in confusion, "Sorry?"

She paused briefly, before speaking again, her words coming out more quietly this time, "I thought you were on your way to ask someone else... ah, but I'm not saying you're about to ask me -- that's just too assuming. Sorry, I would never assume that! Sorry." She tried to smile but winced at the same time, and he fought the urge to laugh, "But if you _are_ about to ask me, then please, by all means, do so. Not that you're going to though, right? Um."

Nancy stared pointedly at the flowers.

Raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck, Rhys tried to find any reason to not do what he was about to do just now, but the expectant look on the other’s face had him defeated. Perhaps there was no reason to save himself for someone else when Nancy was the one who wanted to give him a chance. No point chasing after something unattainable as they say.

Letting out a breath, he sat down across from Nancy and drew the flowers forward for her to take, “Hey so, I was wondering…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya, that just happened. 
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr? [[X]](http://croisscunt.tumblr.com/).


	6. You called me Rick once you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Nancy and Rhys go on a date and Jack crashes in later like the wiener that he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I don't take these summaries seriously anymore. I've given up on life.
> 
> I apologize again for the late updates... I moved. Now I'm staying at a condo until I buy a place with only the local cafe as a source of internet. 
> 
> Thanks so much to BigEvilShine for being my beta (even though I accidentally sent her the wrong chapter).

“Dear Rhys.”

“Vaughn, I swear to _god._ ”

“I would really like it if you came to my house for Valentine’s Day,” Vaughn ignored him, reading outloud from a small pink card with an annoying singsong voice, “I’d love to cook for you and have a wonderful night. Lots of love, Nancy.” He grinned evily, from where he lay on Rhys’s bed, “Awww! That’s so cute.”

“Yeah, could you quit that and just help me decide what to wear instead of being a giant dickbag?”

“Look, I don’t think Nancy particularly cares what you wear dude,” Vaughn said, staring at his friend’s outfit for perhaps the fifth time that evening. He continued with a leer and a poorly concealed snicker, “I’m pretty sure she’s kinda keen on taking them _off_ you in the first place.”

“Okay, ew? This is Nancy we’re talking about. That’s just weird.”

"Ever heard of what they say about the quiet ones?” Yvette commented offhandedly as she browsed through a magazine beside Vaughn, looking every bit a queen.

“Ohhh, the one about them having the weirdest fetishes?” his other friend piped in excitedly.

Rhys looked pointedly scandalized at the thought before grumbling, “Can we get back to me right now? I feel like we need to talk about me.”

“Here I was thinking you were a grown ass man and not a teenage girl undergoing puberty.”

“Vaughn, with your height, everyone in the world may as well be a grown ass man.”

“Oi, now that’s just--”

“Okay, so what do you think? Should I wear the hat or should I not?” Eager to cut the pointless conversation off, Rhys swiftly pulled out a beret from behind him, placing it on his head before gesturing at his dark-blue three-piece suit, “Does it work with what I’m wearing?”

“You look equal parts a giant newsboy and an overdressed cabbie.”  

Rhys rolled his eyes, “Vaughn, do I need to throw another pillow at you?”

Thankfully, Yvette saved him the trouble by pulling out the pillow she'd been laying on, and then smooshing it into the accountant’s face. “I vote no for the hat," she said, "You worked too hard on your hair.”

“Valid point,” as though only realizing it, Rhys pulled off the hat and threw it absently behind him into the messy pile in his closet, “Which tie should I wear then? Should it make a statement or is that going too far?”

The PA held up two different colored ties for his friends to see.

Having wrestled his way out of Yvette’s imposing grip, Vaughn had shimmied over to sit at the edge of the bed, eyeing Rhys with confusion, “What do you mean? How does a tie make a statement?”

A ringing from his desk diverted the three’s attention to Rhys’s ECHOcomm sitting innocently on top of a stack of planners.

Vaughn coughed when Rhys didn’t do anything, “You gonna get that?”

“Obviously you don’t understand anything about a gentleman’s wardrobe,” Rhys ignored the other’s comment and manually put the call to busy with his eye before turning to Yvette, “Red or pink?”

“Red.”

“Hey, don’t you dress-shame me here! My fashion sense is fine! Right?” The accountant turned to Yvette and nudged her legs, “ _R_ _ight?_ It’s fine, right?”

“I don’t know… I’ve always wanted to ask about that weird bow brooch thing.”

“H-hey! That was expensive! It's also a camera!”

“Well, I’m not here to take photos of my date, I want to impress her okay?” Rhys said finally as he swiftly shut his closet and turned to the full-length mirror on his bathroom door to properly put on his tie.

“You look fine dude, I don’t know what’s got you bothered anyway. _You’re_ the one with the date, I’m the one who’s sitting at home watching ECHOflix.”

Yvette cooed at him and poked him at the back of the head with her toe, “Aww, are you lonely? I can keep you company.”

Vaughn swatted at her offending foot before grabbing her by the ankle with an evil cackle and then tackling her into the mattress, “Ha-ha! I got you now!”

“Would you both please be mature about this?” Rhys groaned, pushing his tie up to his collar until it rested nicely against his Adam’s apple.

“You’re just jealous because I’ve got a buff ace guy cuddling me in bed.”

“It’s called a headlock!” His other friend cried out indignantly, sounding muffled as he trapped Yvette’s head in the juncture of his elbow, “And it’s super manly, alright?”

“I’m sure the ladies love it.”

Rhys sighed, ignoring the two as he posed in front of the mirror, looking at himself in different angles with a satisfied hum, finally pleased with his appearance, “Okay, I’m good.”

“Jesus Christ, finally. That took ages.”

“Did you brush your teeth?” Yvette asked knowingly.

“Oh crap, good call.”

As if on cue, his comm began to ring again. Rhys watched as his two friends pointedly stared at it. With a quick work of his ECHOeye, he quickly put it to silent mode.

Vaughn cleared his throat and said, “Wow, imagine if you left just now and smothered Nancy with your smelly potato breath.”

Glaring at him (yet grateful for the distraction), Rhys was half tempted to leap into his bed with them and smother the other with his bare hands, but for the sake of his crisply ironed suit, he simply strolled back into his bathroom with two middle fingers raised over his head.

* * *

The walk to Nancy’s flat was a long one. She was practically on the other side of Helios, in another residential sector entirely.

Which also meant that Rhys was left alone with his thoughts as he ambled through multiple elevators and hallways, his ECHOcomm sitting heavy against his thigh as he ignored yet another call from Jack.

He argued that this wasn’t cowardly of him. That he had every right to be angry. After all, who messages someone they just rejected not twenty-four hours ago, right?

But, Jack hadn’t actually rejected Rhys, and neither had he outright insulted him and vented his flowers or his person into space. Part of him felt guilty for pointedly putting his comm on busy.

But it was just too damn hard not to. He could stand his boss’s strange monologues, his unreciprocated flirting, and his unhealthy work habits. But apparently, he couldn’t withstand being rejected.

It was petty.

But Rhys told himself he’d get over it.

Maybe it was kinda irrational, and not exactly anyone’s fault to begin with, but he had a lot of anger damn it, and it’s not like he’d get in trouble for wrongly misdirecting all of this animosity in secret. It wasn’t like he’d actually hound Jack for it.

So screw him. Screw that smarmy asshole and his stupid cartoon eyebrows.

Rhys sighed heavily as he recalled the messages he received the night before, asking him to stay overtime.

 

> [Yesterday 21:22:35]: I’m going to need you to stay in the office until 7:00 PM tomorrow.
> 
> [Yesterday 22:34:55]: Did you get my message? That means you’re working full time.
> 
> [Today 5:31:40]: Good morning pumpkin. Are you ignoring me?
> 
> [Today 5:32:01]: I’ll take your silence as a yes. See you there.

 

If Rhys hadn’t been subjected to Jack indirectly turning him down last night, he’d be a better, more rational man about all of this. But no, he’d come home yesterday with a stand-in date and an empty bed with his name on it.

Why the hell was Jack asking for overtime today anyway?

It was technically Valentine’s Day, which made today a station-wide holiday that Jack _himself_ enacted, stating that all employees were officially off work by noon and were free to gallivant around with their respective partners or otherwise lonely beds.

Perhaps he just didn’t _think_ Rhys was capable of having a date and opted to have him work his ass off while the rest of the station flirted over shitty coffee and fake oxygen. Well, sod him, because Rhys had a perfectly great date (or so he told himself) that evening with Nancy.

Earlier that day, he’d appeared for his regular job as though nothing had happened. Of course, his boss had little to say about the matter and neither did he mention anything about bouquets or airlocking secret admirers.

Jack had barely looked up from his computer when Rhys promptly strolled in at seven in the morning with two coffees in hand.

With a curt “thanks kiddo,” he only accepted his coffee with little comment, and returned to what appeared to be a new personal project of his. Rhys, with sudden fondness, recognized his sudden rapt intensity as he hunched over his keyboard, typing away as though he were a man possessed.

He just shook his head.

 _Whatever._  Rhys had thought bitterly as he returned to his own desk. It wasn’t his job to know what the other was making. He just had to keep all of Jack’s projects organized and in working order with the rest of his schedule. That was his job after all. To be a PA.

Not to be his boyfriend.

Rhys sighed and just got to work.

“You got my messages, right?” Jack piped in later that day, nearly scaring the living daylights out of Rhys. He’d been quiet the whole time for hours until that point, completely absorbed in his work, so Rhys hadn’t thought he’d be addressed at all.

“Yes,” he replied shortly, shooting the other only a brief glance to show he was listening.

Jack frowned, “Something up, buttercup?”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t play this game with me Rhysie. You know it hurts me when you give me the cold shoulder.”

Rhys had blatantly ignored the jest in that comment, and instead stood abruptly to walk over and take (perhaps with a little bit too much force) Jack’s empty coffee cup, “You look like you need more coffee, _sir_. Let me go get you some more.”

“Rhys, you’re acting like --”

But he didn’t get to find out what he was acting like, because he had marched out to do as he said.

Then he came back without a word of explanation, placing the cup quickly on his boss’s desk before marching away. Thankfully there had been no questions asked.

But the moment Jack left to go to the bathroom later that noon, Rhys had quickly grabbed his things and raced out of the office at 12:00 on the dot, allowing himself to be rebellious and face Jack’s wrath later.

So yeah, he was _technically_ skipping work.

But surely he’d understand? Rhys had a date after all.

And this was only one day. It wasn’t as though the whole of Helios would collapse just because Jack’s PA decided to take a self-imposed vacation like the rest of the employees.

So with that in mind, Rhys pushed the thought of his comm to the very back of his head as he approached Nancy’s door with renewed determination.

* * *

When the door opened, Rhys smiled politely at Nancy who opened the door to reveal that she had chosen to wear a very nice red dress that hugged her torso and flowed outwards from her middle.

She’d even styled her hair to neat ringlets and worn, from what Rhys could see, a bit of make-up. Alright, nothing too extraordinary, but it was nice to know his date was trying.

After all, he didn’t spend nearly three hours in his bedroom trying to find an outfit just to walk into Nancy in her sweatpants.

“Hey! Good evening.”

“Evening,” she said meekly, smiling at him with that same shy demeanor that originally caught him off-guard during their first meeting. She stared at him.

He stared back with an eyebrow raised.

Then, with a start, she opened the door fully and gestured for him to come inside, “Oh, sorry! Come in, come in! I don’t know what I was doing -- standing there --” She trailed off and cleared her throat, and he could have sworn he heard something mumbled along the lines of “so pretty.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her with a laugh, following her in.

“I hope you like lemon chicken,” Nancy said as she guided him to her dining area with the table already set, “Because that’s what we’re having.”

With an appreciative glance he noticed that she had at least good taste in silverware and had even laid out wine glasses. A bottle of white wine stood beside a vase of flowers that were --

Were those _his_ flowers?

“Oh--you,” he blinked as she turned too look at him questioningly on her way to get the food from the kitchen, “You put my bouquet into a vase?”

She blushed, “Yeah. I mean... they were really nice, Rhys. I didn’t want to just leave them lying around somewhere.” There was a pause, “Sorry… was that a bad thing?”

“No, no! Not at all! It’s just… nice,” He smiled, “Really thoughtful.”

Nancy seemed to cheer up at that and she told him to make himself at home as she continued on her way to serve dinner.

Seating himself on one of the chairs with a plate laid out in front of it, Rhys surveyed her apartment. It was much like his own that he shared with Vaughn but it was made specifically for one person so it was relatively smaller. But he noted that it was kept very neat and tidy.

Unlike the nearly hurricane-like mess of paperwork Jack left on his desk every morning.

He shook his head. No, he wasn’t meant to think about Jack. This was a date with _Nancy_ for god’s sake. He needed to focus.

When Nancy reappeared with a large plate-full of food, Rhys helped her set it down, and even pulled out her chair for her like a gentleman. They settled down onto their seats with matching shy and embarassed smiles.

But as awkward as Nancy was, they made small talk easily enough when they started pouring the wine, soon finding themselves in a comfortable conversation.

It was mostly about what she was doing at work, what it was like to be a PA -- did Handsome Jack really airlock his paperwork once when he got bored?

“You know, you called me Rick once?” Rhys found himself teasing after a while.

“Crap I thought you’d forget about that! That was stupid -- I’m sorry. I get nervous sometimes and… don’t think. Before I speak.”

“Don’t worry, it’s cute,” he found himself saying, tongue growing loose from the alcohol.

With dread he noticed that Nancy was preening at his praise.

Shit, he was getting in too deep.

Maybe the wine wasn’t helping.

They finished up dinner with him complementing her cooking. And he didn’t even have to pretend when she blushed at his words that he found her bloody endearing.

And if he poured himself a fourth glass and pointedly ignored a notification from his ECHOeye that he received yet another message from Jack, then that was his business.

He was gonna have fun damn it. Jack could chill for a day while he drunk himself stupid with white wine. Considering what happened recently, he deserved some down time.

Eventually, the two migrated to the couch along with a new bottle, tall wine glasses in hand, and empty plates forgotten on the dining table.

Rhys found himself slouched onto her comfortable cushions, face flushed and grinning like a fool as he let the warmth of the alcohol pervade his belly.

“You’re really attractive you know?” Nancy said, suddenly beside him with her own glass held between her fingers, “Like really pretty. Really tall. And you were always so nice to me… you bought me coffee once you know when you were on your way to Jack’s office one morning. Saved me from having to run back to my apartment to get cash.”

Not recalling that exchange at all, Rhys just nodded, “I… thanks, Nancy. I’m really flattered.”

Apparently, the wine was making her a lot less inhibited too, “And god, I wouldn’t even have believed it if someone told me I’d spend Valentine’s day evening with you. I can’t even believe you asked me.”

He bit back a sigh, closing his eyes. What was he doing, running circles around this girl?

“Nancy…”

He heard her shift around on the couch and his eyes opened to look at her when she took his glass from his fingers and placed it on the coffee table next to her own glass, her gaze looking much less like the shy Nancy he grew to be comfortable with.

Suddenly his mind started noticing everything the wine had dulled out.

The fact that Nancy had moved to sit far too close to him, her side nearly pressing against his. The fact that the skirt of her dress had hiked up her pale thighs while she looked up at him openly, her face red from the alcohol. The fact that she made no move to pull it down and right herself.

Then, she was mumbling that she had liked Rhys for a while now, and with the wine making his movements heavy, he could only stare at her in mild fascination as she shifted forward to plant a peck on his lips.

Rhys didn’t say anything. Didn’t move, didn’t reciprocate. Just stared as she moved away slightly to check for his reaction.

“Tell me if you want me to stop?”

Nancy shifted forward again to capture his mouth and he, with slight guilt, didn’t push her away, reveling instead in the softness of her lips and the mild scent of her perfume.

They kissed for a while.

He thought of Jack and all his messages and how utterly and terribly screwed he was right now. He thought of Jack’s own lips against his, brief and soft. How his hand had rested atop his own and kept him in place with only one heated gaze.

But then he continued to kiss Nancy anyway because he thinks fuck Jack, he’s allowed to have fun.  

Right?

This was fun.

He had a pretty girl nearly climbing onto his lap while she dug her fingers into his neatly gelled hair. This was supposed to be a good thing -- something that helped.

With getting over Jack.

Soon Nancy was deepening the kiss with a tug on his neck and a turn of her head. He tasted more of the wine that they had been drinking.

When he felt her fingers migrating down to his thigh, Rhys pulled away with a shake of his head.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

He grabbed her small shoulders and held her away from him at arm’s length.

She tried to speak but he continued on.

“You’re really a lovely girl Nancy. Attractive, nice, and an amazing cook.” He said seriously, trying to be as sincere as possible, “But I don’t think it’s right for me to do this. Not when...” He swallowed, still tasting her on his tongue, “Not when I’ve got someone else in mind.”

The look on Nancy’s face was absolutely heartbreaking.

Rhys felt his own heart plummet into his stomach at his actions, guilt creeping into his chest, “I’m sorry--”

“Why?” Nancy whimpered, “Why ask me out then? Why kiss me?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I thought I was over it all. I thought it was going to be fine. You were pretty and you wanted me -- and I thought I could get over it if I tried hard enough.”

“So you used me?”

He throat felt dry, wanting to apologize more but couldn’t find any more excuses. So he said, “Yes.”

She pulled away from him completely and turned away to hide her face.

“Nancy, I’m sorry--”

She turned back to him quickly when he reached out to touch her shoulder, startling him,, “Just tell me this then. Who is it? This person. Is it someone I know? Is it someone I work with?”

He swallowed thickly, wiping his palms against his knees instead, feeling like his beating heart would just burst in his chest when he finally admitted rather softly, “It’s my boss... Handsome Jack. I’m kinda -- well, I guess the right word for it is ‘hopelessly’ in love with him.”

At least he said it out loud. Finally.

At this she gave him a little brave smile, “Kinda like me with you, I guess?”

Rhys had no answer for that.

“Well… thank you for telling me this, I guess. Oh, and also for stopping. I still enjoyed spending the time with you this evening but…”

“I really shouldn’t have led you on like this.”

“You’re a nice guy, Rhys,” she said, with a heavy sigh, “You couldn’t have refused anyway. You’ve been really great tonight. But I just wish you made it easier to hate you after this...” she paused, drawing away from him completely to sit on the other side of the couch, “I think I just want to go to sleep now. If it’s okay with you that is.”

“No no no no, yes whatever you want Nancy. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize anymore.” Which sounded a lot like ‘I don’t want to hear anymore excuses.’

She then smiled weakly, before standing and picking up the wine bottle from the coffee table, “Guess I’ll see you out?”

He returned her smile with a tentative one of his own, “Yeah,” and before he apologized again, he caught himself, “I’d like that.”

They both walked towards her front door and he thanked her when she opened it, then thanked her again for the great dinner. There was a pause as he hovered awkwardly at the entrance, raising a hand to the back of his head sheepishly.

“I know you told me not to apologize again but… you deserve better. Better than me. You’re a pretty girl, Nancy. And I’m not just saying this to be polite either.”

“But not pretty enough for you?”

“What? No, I--”

She laughed, though it sounded strained and watery.

“It’s okay, I’m just kidding with you.” She told him, but Rhys had the feeling that this wasn’t entirely true.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you?” He turned to leave, already raising his hand to bid her goodbye when she reached out to grasp him by the arm, surprising him, “Ah, yes?”

“Take the wine with you,” she said, pushing the bottle into his hands gently.

“Are you sure?”

She wrinkled her nose, “Yeah, I never liked wine anyway. I just bought it ‘cause I thought you’d think I was more mature.”

He laughed, taking it firmly by the neck, “Alright, thank you. Good night, Nancy. And… sorry again. I meant what I said.”

“Good night!”

* * *

Because of the residual effects of the wine, the way back to his apartment took longer than his trip to Nancy’s place. Even then he took his time to walk and fish out his keys when he arrived at his door, only to find it already unlocked.

“Hey! Vaughn? Yvette? Are you guys here?” Rhys peeked into his strangely dark apartment, seeing that it was empty. Maybe they both went out to get dinner or something.

And left the fucking door unlocked?

He’d have a word with Vaughn about this later.

Shaking his head at the night he just had, he walked in rather unsteadily and locked the door, dropping his keys into a cracked ceramics bowl lying on the hallway table. One look at the clock said that it was half-past twelve.

Rhys stumbled over his own feet on the way into the kitchen, wine in hand. He righted himself as he reached into one of the cupboards to grab a small glass -- nothing like the ones in Nancy’s apartment, but good enough.

Pouring himself one last glass for the night, he made a bee-line for his bedroom, feeling utterly exhausted.

That was when he noticed that his bedroom door was also left ajar.

He froze.

“... Vaughn?” He called out cautiously, hand coming up to push his door open slightly before stepping in, noticing that his room was also scarily dark.

Rhys nearly jumped right out of his skin at the sound of footfalls coming from where his bed was.

Flattening against the wall behind him, he groped blindly for the light switch so he could maybe find something to use as a weapon when he felt two large hands grasp him roughly by the shoulders and push him harder against the wall, nearly making him drop the glass in his hand.

“Well don’t you look like a peach, all nice and dressed up?”

Rhys recognized that voice anywhere.

“ _Jack?_ ”

“Yeah, forgot about me and the billion messages I sent you?”

He tried to fight the fear that settled in his stomach at the sound of the other’s sickly pleasant tone, usually reserved for violence.

Rhys felt Jack reach over behind him and flick the lights on, filling the room in sudden brightness. The PA was temporarily blinded by it, all too disoriented with the alcohol he had in his system.

Suddenly, there was a bright pink card (that Rhys realized with dread was the note Nancy gave him) pushed directly into his line of vision, and behind it was Jack’s rather flushed looking face smiling sweetly at him.

“Wanna tell me who Nancy is?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo smut next chapter. 
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr? [[X]](http://croisscunt.tumblr.com/).


	7. And he huffed and he puffed at the smutty smut hut.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is... wow. I hate myself. I thought, "How am I going to write even a hundred words of dicking, I'm not a smut writer." But then it became well over six thousand words and I give up on me.
> 
> PitchJack, I hope you're bloody pleased with yourself.

“Wanna tell me who Nancy is?”

The fingers that dug into his arms were almost bruising and the press of the wall against the bones of his shoulder blades was uncomfortable. But he couldn’t bring himself to be too preoccupied with his discomfort when he could barely turn his eyes away from the look on Jack’s face. It wasn’t like him to look like that.

Like he was betrayed or something.

He was smiling, yet the tension writ in his body and the look in his eyes said otherwise.

But that’s just impossible, Rhys reasoned in his slightly inebriated state. After all, he’d never said or done anything to compromise the other’s trust. He just skived off work for half a day (on a holiday no less) -- nothing that warranted such manhandling. Not that he put it past Jack though.

Instead he settled with, “I thought breaking into people’s houses was beneath you.”

He winced when the hands grew tighter around his skin.

“Is this the game we’re playing, Rhysie?” Jack said slowly and deliberately, testing out the syllables of his name carefully on his tongue, “Avoiding each other? Avoiding this thing that’s been happening for freakin’ weeks now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he did. It was difficult to not notice it with how Jack was acting. With how he himself was acting. Especially with the realness of Jack’s hands on him right now, probably leaving purple marks. But still, it was easier to retain his dignity this way and play dumb.

“Don’t you?” the other hissed quietly, his pleasant demeanor dropping entirely to form a scowl. “So you ignore all my messages, race out on me during work, and come back to your apartment at midnight looking all…”

Rhys tried ignore the growl in the man’s tone as he trailed off.

“Looking all?”

“C’mon, do you take me for an idiot, kid? Look for yourself,” Jack pointed to his right towards the bathroom door where the mirror Rhys had used to fix his tie earlier hung from.

Turning his head, he tried to hide the surprise on his face at his appearance. Lips bruised and stained slightly red for Nancy’s lipstick, small strands coming undone from his usually prim and kept hairstyle, a visible flush on his cheeks (which he wanted to vainly argue was from the wine), and the barely noticeable loosening of his tie around his collar, revealing only a glimpse of the black tattoo on his throat.

He watched himself visibly swallow and tried to fight off the way his chest tightened as he saw the way Jack’s reflection tracked the movement with his eyes.

“Been busy with your secret admirer?”

“T-that’s…” he coughed to hide the crack in his voice, “That’s not your business. Who I date is none of your concern.” He paused, “Why are you here?”

Jack fixed him with a critical stare.

“Why do you think? You’re the one who said I was toying to begin with.”

“Well, if you’re not toying, then what are you doing here then? Answer my question.”

“To prove that I’m not toying.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, “What?”

“Listen to me Rhysie, could you use your head for once? Think about it. Tell me -- _why_ do you think I’m here? I friggin’ kissed you remember? Or was that all just meaningless to you?”

It took everything not to look away. Should he admit truthfully and say that the kiss they shared probably meant more to him that Jack will ever know? Put himself in such a vulnerable position where he could have Jack yet again do another one-eighty and completely embarrass him like he’d been doing all this time?

Or better yet, act like nothing had ever transpired between them?

The thought of that nearly made him want to tear at his own hair so he squashed everything down and said, “No. It meant nothing to me.” Rhys tried to move away, “Listen, it’s been a long night, so maybe you should go--”

“You are such a fucking _dick._ "

The only warning he got was Jack snatching the glass of wine from his slack fingers, nearly spilling it on his bedroom carpet. He yelled out his protest but the glass was placed harshly against a nearby dresser, and he couldn’t properly voice his indignation because Jack was kissing him.

Shock filled him and his first instinct was to push Jack away and punch him square in the jaw with his metal arm, but he didn’t understand why at the same time, arousal blossomed in his chest at Jack’s mouth working against his.

Rhys felt his body sinking. It was hard to focus when he was pressed firmly against the wall behind him with no escape, no leverage, mind slightly hazy from the wine he had earlier as Jack kissed him fiercely. He could feel the other’s anger coming off like waves and he was only able to hold on with eyes shut tight.

And then, Jack pulled away with a growl against his mouth, something akin to frustration showing through his eyes, “You asshole.” He said through gritted teeth, his hands dug into Rhys's narrow hips to draw the other’s pelvis against his, “You absolute fucking _asshole._ Why are you playing me like this? Huh? Why? Are you having fun? Playing the big bad Hyperion CEO like a goddamn instrument?”

“Playing?” Rhys demanded, terribly confused, “I’m not playing at anything! Aren’t you the one playing _me?_ What the hell are you going on about?”

It was then that Jack paused to look at him, completely stunned for once and not even trying to hide it. He said after a while, “Oh my god. You… you absolutely have no fucking idea do you?”

“No? Why would I--”

“Oh c’mon, you can’t be this dumb right? Please tell me I hired _someone_ in this space station who’s at least somewhat competent,” the other man said, looking terribly irate, “I’ve been friggin’ courting the pants out of you for like three months now. Seriously does anything get through all that stupid hair gel of yours?”

“Sir, what--”

“Why. Do you. Keep calling me that?” Jack demanded, and as though angered by this, was suddenly on him again, punctuating each word with harsh tugs at Rhys's blazer that nearly broke the seams, “And why do you have to wear these stupid ass dress pants? The whole world can see your ass. Can't you wear something more shitty? It's not fucking fair god dammit.”

With Rhys’s beloved garment dumped unceremoniously on the bedroom floor beside them, Jack grasped him by the jaw, his fingers digging into Rhys’s cheek bones, and turned it to the side so that Rhys had his cheek pressed against the wall behind him.

Rhys yelped, shivering at the sudden sensation of Jack trailing kisses from behind his ear and down his throat, suckling on the soft skin that met his neck and shoulder. Any attempt to move was stopped by a large hand that rested firmly against his chest, “J-Jack! Hang on a second--”

“I am so fucking done with waiting,” Jack nosed at his throat, canines grazing against the circular tattoo there, and Rhys was left to only grasp up at the other’s shoulders, unable to allow himself to stop any of this with how right it all felt, “I bought you shit, I kissed you, I fucking set up a romantic dinner today with wine and everything but you still. Don't. Fucking. Get it.”

His face must have echoed his confusion because Jack continued on to explain, “Dinner? Yeah, I wanted to take you out somewhere today. You know, somewhere better than last time where we could be alone. Have a private romantic bullshit chat. Why’d you think I was messaging you the whole time about staying ‘till seven you freakin’ idiot? But no, the little PA had to run off with this Nancy chick.”

His heart clenched at the mention of Nancy’s name, “Don’t hurt her Jack. Please.” His mind feared the worst of what could happen to the poor girl with Handsome Jack aware of her existence -- and he'd tried very hard to keep her a secret too.

“Really? This is what you're doing?” said Jack as though Rhys’s actions physically pained him, “Talking about a girl with my hand on your crotch?”

“What? Your hand’s not--haa--” Rhys's words cut off in a shaky breath when he felt a sudden pressure against the front of his pants, Jack’s eyes avidly trained to his face, “W-wait...”

“Do you have any idea how you make me feel?” Jack whispered against his ear before bringing the lobe into his mouth and nipping at it with his teeth. Rhys bit back a groan.

The hand that was before stroking slight touches against his crotch now began rubbing against the seam of his pants, fondling the growing bulge over his clothes, and beyond his better judgement, he started pushing his hips forward, bucking slightly into the large fingers. Rhys barely heard him when he started talking again, far too engrossed in all the sensations happening.

“I spent so much money on the wine for tonight.” Jack hissed against his cheek, breathing becoming heavy in his own arousal, and Rhys just let the words wash over him like violent tides against a shore, “I was going to smother you with attention and see if you'd come to me finally. I was waiting you know? For something that said I could have you.” He laughed bitterly, “But you just didn't give a damn did you?”

Rhys shuddered, unsure whether he was entranced by Jack’s confessions, or he was being hit with the shock that his own feelings were reciprocated to such an extent. The whole thing was just nuts after the fiasco in front of Jack’s door.

“Y-you can, you know.” Rhys said finally with a quivering voice, face darkening in red as he averted his eyes, “Have me, that is.”

The movement against his pants stopped and he was met with Jack’s nearly paralyzing stare, waiting for him to continue.

Since the CEO was being honest, Rhys supposed it was only fair to come clean.

“I tried to,” he mumbled quietly, unnerved by the undivided attention he was getting, “I really tried to do something about this -- a-about us. That kiss and all. I got flowers and I even went to your penthouse to give them to you.”

The look on Jack’s face said he didn’t remember this happening.

“I didn’t take your elevator. I, uh, went to your front door.”

“Oh.” A questioning noise came from the other like he was formulating a conclusion from this new information, “So why didn’t you ring the damn bell then?”

The PA fell silent, worrying at his lip as he tried to find the right words that wouldn’t embarrass him.

“I… overheard you. Talking on your comm. Said you were gonna airlock the next person to give you flowers,” he gave a small laugh, “And despite my reputation of working under you, I kinda value my life a little.” Plus, rejection hurt like a bitch. Not that he’d say it out loud.

“Wow.”

“Yup,” Rhys confirmed awkwardly, popping the ‘p.’

“So, in fact…”

“Yup.”

“You were…”

“Rejected,” said Rhys just as Jack said with the most pleased grin, “Going to ask me out.”

Rhys flushed, “That isn’t the point! The point is, you’re the dick here not me!”

But it was no use, Jack looked absolutely fucking ecstatic at the thought of Rhys getting him flowers, and it was near infectious. Rhys tried to squash down the happy gooey feelings to no avail.

“Insult me all you want, but _you’re_ the one who was about to ask this dick out.”

One of Jack’s hands dropped behind Rhys and pinched his ass.

Scandalized, Rhys yelped with a surprised jolt, fingers digging into Jack’s shoulders as the other man started pointedly cackling at the look of indignation on his face.

Cheeks aflame in embarrassment, he muttered, “I wish you’d stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Jack grinned.

“Making fun of me,” he grumbled, “It’s not fair… that dildo noogie you gave me? And all those times you badgered me about coffee or bothered me from doing my job? You were so freaking mean to me how was I meant to know you felt…” He cleared his throat, “anything.”

“Frankly sweetheart, even your buddy Victor, Vance, Vladmir or something would have seen it coming. And he’s fucking blind as a bat.”

Not wanting to admit that his friend had in fact called it before, he said quietly instead, “His name’s Vaughn…”

“Right, and I’m Penelo,” the other continued on impatiently, “Look, quit it with the chit-chat kiddo, and just give me a yes or no.”

Rhys blinked, “Uh, a yes or no to what?”

Screwing his eyes shut, Jack leaned his forehead onto his PA’s shoulder and gave an almighty sigh, “Ohh my god… where did I go wrong? Are you _this_ dense? What else could I be talking about? What else could I be _thinking_ about after this fucking confession of yours?”

He stared at his boss blankly as the other pulled away to glare at him.

“Listen I’m just going to spell it out for you since it’s clear you’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met on the face of this galaxy. You’re lucky you’re cute as hell,” He paused, before saying, “Can I have a yes or no to fucking your ass into next week or not, dumbass?”

Oh.

_Oh._

Rhys may as well have been hit with a cryo E-gun for how rigid he went in shock -- and embarrassment. His tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth, rendered nearly speechless with only Jack's imposing grip to keep him grounded.

The CEO waited impatiently for him to finish freaking the fuck out.

But when Rhys tried to speak with a slack jaw, words rushing into one another in almost comical stupefaction, Jack only raised an eyebrow to signal he was listening to whatever the other had to say.

“I-I… oh.” He eventually babbled out lamely as color flooded his cheeks. Thoughts swarmed his brain, and images of Jack's implication washed over him like a flood, making it nearly impossible to formulate any intelligible retort.

As though reading it on his face, Jack sighed, “Okay buttercup, I get it. You're the worst at expressing your dumb thoughts,” he edged closer now, eyes trailing Rhys’s lips carefully with measured intent, “How about this. I do something, and you tell me if it's okay -- actually, don’t even try to speak considering you've lost all cognitive function. Just nod or shake your head. Sound good?”

Rhys opened his mouth only to shut it at the look on his boss’s face. He just nodded.

“Okay.” He whimpered. Fucking _whimpered._ What the hell was Jack doing to him?

As though he didn’t notice this, Jack wasted no time in planting a peck on his mouth.

He drew back briefly to see if there would be protest (which, if he were thinking properly, Rhys would consider to be ridiculous considering the other had their mouth all over his neck not moments ago) then moved forward again to kiss him and deepen their married mouths.

“Mmm,” Jack hummed when he pulled away again, sending appreciative glances up and down Rhys’s flushed face, “Scared shitless is a good look for you.”

Rhys’s jaw dropped.

This _asshole._

With a smug grin, Jack pointedly ignored the look on his PA’s face, “Alright, alright. Let’s get a move on babe.”

Against his will, Rhys felt his stomach plummet in disappointment when Jack took a step back, only to have his eyes widen in shock at the sudden tug of a firm hand grasping at his red tie, causing him to bend forward uncomfortably. He tried to protest but Jack was having none of it. Trust the man to keep up dramatics even in the fucking bedroom. 

“Wha-- Jack--?”

He found himself being quickly led forward deeper into his room by his tie and abruptly stopped beside his bed.

Without warning he was shoved roughly back onto the mattress, nearly bouncing him on the surface with yelp and a priceless look on his face.

“Hah!” Jack grinned evilly as he crawled up over Rhys’s lying body, looking down at him like he was undressing him with his eyes, “God, it's so fun to mess with you.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, finally rubbing off the shock and finding his tongue, “And you're such a jerk.”

“Hm, well you were going to ask me out weren’t you? Says a lot about your tastes, doesn’t it sweetheart?”

Mildly irritated, Rhys shot back, “Yeah, well I _had_ to, didn’t I? My dense boss wasn’t really making any advances on me apart from getting drunk and puking in a toilet.”

Ohh shit. Jack’s eyes narrowed at that and Rhys wanted to immediately take back what he said.

“You wanna talk about dense, Rhysie? I’ll show you dense.”

Blinking in confusion, Rhys felt his tie being loosened and his dress shirt being unbuttoned and shrugged off. With his shirt pooling at this elbows, Rhys drew himself up a little to stare up at Jack, wondering what he meant.

Rough hands traveled down Rhys’s exposed sides, past the slope of his flat belly, and stopped on either side of his hips.

“Dense is someone who doesn’t friggin’ notice it when people flat-out eye-fuck him all the time.”

“What are you--”

“And I’m not talking about me, cupcake. I’m talking about executives we have meetings with. You know that Vasquez guy? Wallet-head, or whatever? Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

Rhys actually found himself terribly lost. Vasquez had never once voiced any interest to him apart from snide and rude underhanded comments that were aimed to jab and get under his skin.

“We met with him along with some other chumps a month ago remember? And it was like that fucker suddenly had hands instead of eyes. You wanna know what he was thinking?”

Rhys found his mouth going dry, as deft hands felt down against his hips, thumbs smoothing past the inside of his cloth-covered thighs. He shivered.

“He was thinking about planting you on that table and bending your legs back as far as it could reach. Fucking you within an inch of your life until you couldn’t remember your own name. But I’m the only who’s going to be able to do that, aren’t I?” A harsh breath tickled at his neck, “Isn’t that right, Rhysie? You’re going to let me fuck you?"

Rhys couldn’t help it. His breath stuttered at the other’s words, dick probably harder than it had ever been in his life.

But Jack didn’t wait for a stammered response. His hands suddenly moved up to pull the zip of Rhys’s trousers down, pushing it past his knees where the other had to awkwardly kick it off without accidentally hitting Jack.

When his shirt was pulled off him along with his tie, he was met with the crippling realization that he was almost naked in front of his boss.

Shit.

Here he was, in his underwear, underneath probably the most powerful man in the galaxy (fully clothed to his annoyance), and having the other just talk _at_ him with heated words.

Rhys was never known to stay quiet, and with a thousand retorts at the edge of his tongue, he decided that a little bit of pay-back was in order. He stopped Jack’s descent down his body by looping his fingers through the other’s belt, above where Jack was visibly hard too.

Jack froze, eyes shooting up to Rhys’s face.

“Let me.”

There was a hint of a smile there when Jack answered, “Let you what, Rhysie?”

“Touch. See. Whatever. I can’t just be lying here.”

“I’d say you look freaking pretty like that though.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Shut up and get on your back.”

“Ooh, getting demanding aren’t we?” Jack cackled but conceded anyway, eager to see what the other had in store for him. He rolled away from Rhys and moved to edge back on the bed until he was comfortably leaning on a pillow against the headboard, “Show me what you got, pumpkin.”

Sitting up from his previous position, Rhys made a show of crawling up the bed until his face hovered just above Jack’s stomach where the length of his belt started. He must have made a spectacle, moving towards the other man on his hands and knees in only his boxers, and by the heated look on Jack’s face, it seemed like he was doing good so far.

Jack watched intently as Rhys made a work of his brown vest (curse all the fucking layers on this guy) and parted it to work on his shirt buttons. When he also drew this aside, he was met with a tattered yellow Hyperion sweater.

He paused, “Really?”

The CEO looked smug, “What?”

“Do you really have to make it this difficult to undress you? You’re wearing like four things.”

“Then let me make it easier for you,” Jack snickered before shifting up slightly to shove off his jacket, vest and white dress shirt in one move, dumping it somewhere over the side of the bed. Then, Rhys watched with interest as Jack gave him one knowing look, before he reached up and over behind himself to tug at the fabric surrounding his shoulders, pulling his sweater over his head.

Oh my god.

Handsome Jack took off his shirt like a freaking frat boy.

Trying very hard to hide his laughter from this, Rhys focused himself to just waiting as Jack re-positioned himself back down against the headboard. But apparently the smile on his face was poorly concealed.

Jack frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Rhys grinned up at him cheekily before going back to business.

Apparently, with his PA focusing on his body instead, Jack was more than willing to let the matter go.

Rhys’s eyes followed the path of hair that dusted down Jack’s chest, and then to the hard dip of his stomach where he appreciated the small divots of his abs that ended at his belly button. Nothing as defined as Vaughn’s, but still pretty impressive for a man who sits on his ass most of the time.

“Are you just gonna stare all day, sweetheart?”

Rhys shot him a glare but otherwise ignored him.

Compared to Jack, Rhys was pale as hell. The younger man ducked his head down to plant a kiss right above the small hairs of the man’s happy trail.

The sharp intake of breath above him was encouraging, so he moved to the side and planted more kisses and even a bite to the V of Jack’s hipbone. He tried not to grin at the feeling of Jack boner pressed against his chest as he moved down, straining against his jeans.

When Rhys looked back up to meet the other’s eyes, he saw the CEO was breathing unevenly, but patiently watching.

And with that, he reached his hands towards Jack’s belt and quickly undid it, pulling it off with one sharp tug. Throwing it along with Jack other’s stuff off the bed, he gave one tentative glance up before unbuttoning Jack’s jeans and pulling down the zipper to reveal Jack’s underwear.

Except there was no underwear.

Because of course Jack didn’t wear underwear.

“Like what you see?” He heard said above him, and he didn’t even have to look up to see the shit-eating grin on the other’s face.  

Instead, Rhys reached a hand up, his flesh one, and pulled Jack out, wrapping his fingers around the man’s cock.

There was a visible shift in Jack as the defined line of his stomach sucked in to inhale sharply.

Rhys stopped, wondering if he should pause to ask how the other man liked it.

"Uh, should I--?"

“Christ, kiddo, you’re killing me here,” Jack groaned before reaching down to wrap his own hand over Rhys’s, “Just do it like how you’d touch your own.”

When Rhys began to follow the movements of the other’s hand, the soft surface of his palm stroking back and forth, Jack threw his head back to reveal the tantalizing line of his throat, groaning out a quiet pleased sound.

And with that, Jack pulled away his hands entirely to let the PA do it himself, his lips parting as the other’s fingers moved up and down his shaft, skin growing slick from the fluids leaking from his tip.

“I’m guessing you haven’t given a proper handjob before, huh?” Jack chuckled after a while, voice hoarse.

“Not exactly something you learn in college when studying for business economics.”

Jack laughed, “Guess not.”

Rhys watched as the man’s cock hardened more, noticing with delight that Jack was closing his eyes, jaw clenching and unclenching if the bobbing of his Adam’s apple was any indication.

Eyes fluttering down to the head pointed directly at his mouth, Rhys thought that this may as well be a good a time as any, before leaning forward to swipe his tongue against the tip.  

Jack let out a short gasp as his eyes shot open, hip jerking up.

Blinking, Rhys froze, thinking he’d hurt him.

“D-do that again. Shit.”

Ah.

Not needing to be told twice, Rhys wrapped his lips around just the head, tasting a bit of precum on his tongue and not exactly hating it. Jack groaned, his hands coming down to dig into the other’s hair, stroking the exposed skin of the back of Rhys’s neck. His thumbs were planted on either side of the PA’s temples where he fingered the neuro port slightly with careful touches.

Rhys whimpered around the dick in his mouth, losing his head to all the sensations going on. It was hard to think properly.

“Fuck Rhysie. Can you try to take in as much as you can?” Jack panted, pushing slightly at the back of Rhys’s head, and down onto his dick in encouragement. “I wanna see you try to take me in. C’mon, please.”

Rhys pulled off briefly and looked up from his position above Jack’s pelvis before swallowing audibly and wrapping his lips around the cock in front of him again, edging down as slowly as he could.

“That’s right,” Jack’s eyes were screwed shut at this point, hips quivering as he held onto Rhys’s hair like a lifeline, “Hollow out your cheeks and try to f-flatten your tongue down--” he cut off, mouth parting, “ _Fuck_ _._ ”

Rhys was nowhere near to the bottom of Jack’s dick when he started to choke, but the steady pressure on the back of his neck kept him in place as he swallowed around him, quickly looking up at the other's face as he did so because _shit_ this was so hot.

When he felt his eyes start to water at the feeling of the back of his throat convulsing, Jack finally let him go with a sharp gasp, Rhys letting out a breath of his own as he sputtered and coughed to regain his bearings.

“Fuck. Fuck. Shit, kiddo,” he heard above him, and suddenly he was grabbed and turned over onto his back, Jack’s face staring down at him. The man was hastily shoving his jeans down his legs, pulling out two silver packet from his back pocket before he threw his pants haphazardly onto the floor behind him.

“My turn.”

Jack captured his mouth and he felt like he might as well disappear into the bed under him with how much his head was spinning. So instead, he wrapped his spindly arms around Jack’s neck, allowing himself to spiral out of control because he trusted Jack. He trusted him. He _loved_ him.

A sharp ripping sound brought him to his senses and he opened one good eye to see Jack pulling away to unravel a condom, as he pinched the tip and rolled it on. He took the second packet and ripped it open, pouring lube into his palm, looking every bit as ragged as Rhys felt.

“Take them off.” Jack said, voice strangely deep and commanding as he looked down at Rhys’s boxers like they were the most offensive thing he’d ever seen. Rhys complied without protest, throwing it down with the rest of the clothes.

Then he was on him again, kissing Rhys within an inch of his, hands parting his legs, and blunt fingers coming to nudge where his thighs met. Jolting, he tried to calm himself as he felt Jack massage his hole, trying to draw it open until it was loose enough to slip one finger into.

Jack swallowed Rhys’s moan, fingers working him open patiently in contrast to how completely unsteady he felt.

“J-Jack,” Rhys whimpered when he felt two fingers push in, “Wait, please--”

“I got you Rhys, I won’t hurt you,” Jack mumbled into the other’s mouth. Rhys whined from the painful stretch of Jack’s fingers, “Here. Just relax, pumpkin.”

Jack’s other hand wrapped around his weeping cock to distract him, and the PA nearly choked on his spit trying not to shamelessly moan out the other’s name. By the time his dick was resting painfully hard against his own abdomen, Jack was three fingers in, breathing heavily over him.

“I think I’m ready,” Rhys said after a while, lips pressed together into a thin line.

“You sure?” The man reached up to wipe away some brown strands that landed on the brunette’s forehead.

Nodding his affirmation, Rhys waited with bated breath as Jack leaned back to draw his legs around his waist to line himself against Rhys’s hole.  

“Tell me when to stop,” Jack bit out, before his still slippery fingers latched onto Rhys’s thighs and he pushed himself in. The only thing that kept Rhys from thinking about the pain was the look on the other man’s face.

His mouth parted and his eyebrows furrowed, gazing down at Rhys with a half-lidded stare as though he were the most gorgeous thing ever.

“Christ, look at you... “ Jack murmured over him, beginning with thrusts slow and deliberate as he stopped all of Rhys’s movements with the hold on his legs, spreading him wider to see everything more clearly, “Do you see yourself sweetheart? You _have_ to know what you’re doing to me, there’s no way you can’t.”

Rhys was half tempted to say something sarcastic like “Well, there’s not exactly a mirror where I can look at myself is there?” but Jack’s length slowly pressing him open had him gasping instead, “W-what do I look like?”

Feeling the other’s eyes roam over his form, he nearly curled in on himself when Jack replied with a lick of his lips, “All flushed and pliant under me… you know all those fucking times I embarrassed you? When you’d turn so fucking red? Do you know what I was thinking about?” One of Jack’s arms let go of Rhys’s leg in favor of leaning over to smooth his fingers down Rhys’s Adam’s apple and down to his bellybutton, “All I could fucking imagine was how far that blush traveled. About kissing you all the way down to where it ended just to see you squirm.”

Rhys was light headed with stars dancing behind his eyelids, far too aroused to give a coherent reply with Jack buried so deeply inside him. So instead, he hooked his free leg around Jack's waist, and, using his heel as leverage against Jack’s lower back, began to impatiently cant his hips upward to take the other in deeper.

Jack cursed, shoulders slumping as his breath stuttered.

Suddenly, his legs were pressed hard against his chest, nearly folding him in half against the mattress. Both legs were brought over Jack's shoulders so that his calves rested against the other's back

"You're going to pay for that, you little shit,” he hissed.

Placing both his arms at either side of Rhys’s head to keep himself upright, Jack bent forward and started thrusting.

Rhys mouth fell open, hands coming up to grip at Jack’s biceps, feeling the muscles rippling there as the man moved inside him at a fast pace. All at once he knew he wouldn’t last that long at all, and it was freaking embarrassing considering he wasn’t the one who was getting a blowjob earlier.

“Rhys.” Jack said, voice deep and gravelly, which did things to Rhys’s stomach that he wasn’t proud of, “Rhys listen to me. This isn’t going to be a one time thing alright?” He panted over the younger man, hair coming down over his flushed face, “This is a sure thing. Are you listening to me?”

Rhys held on, fingers digging into Jack’s arms as he made embarrassing noises that he hoped the other would just forget about. There was a coiling knot in his belly that made it hard to focus on what Jack was saying.

But the man continued, “I… fuck, I really care about you, alright? It’s more than just--just a physical thing. So after this,” he pushed forward deep into Rhys, making the PA cry out, and stayed there, buried in the brunette as he rolled his hips, “After this, we’re going to dinner alright?”

Rhys reached between them and wrapped his hand around his own cock, rubbing at himself while his teeth bit into his bottom lip.

“Did you hear me cupcake? I said--” Jack paused in his movements and Rhys felt frustration bloom in his chest because he was so. Fucking. Close. “I said, I care about you.”

“I love you too Jack,” Rhys said in exasperation, “Now fucking _move._ ”

But Jack didn’t move. After those words left Rhys’s mouth he just fucking gaped openly down at him like he’d grown a second head. And if Rhys were thinking straight, he’d be bothered by it, but instead, he let go of his cock and planted both his arms on Jack’s hips to try to get some leverage.

“You just…”

“ _Jack,_ ” Rhys whined, realizing his attempts of getting off were in vain.

“You dick!” Jack finally burst out, looking angry, “I wanted to say it first! I fucking love you too!”

Rhys would have reveled in those words forever had he not been so close to fucking cumming. He reached up to grip Jack firmly on the jaw, and growled menacingly, “If you don’t fucking move _right now_ I’m leaving you here with blue balls and finishing off by myself in the shower.”

Jack blinked and Rhys had half a mind to just shove him off to see the look on his face, but thank god the other took the hint and started moving again.

This time with that stupid smirk back on his face.

“Thanks for putting the thought in my head. We’re having round two in the shower.”

“Shh,” Rhys put his robotic fingers against Jack’s lips and the man took it in without thinking as he continued his movements, “Less talking more fucking.” He reached down again to stroke his cock, a little bit more desperately this time. “Shit... Close.”

Jack grinned around Rhys’s fingers -- or well tried to but looked completely stupid.

The other man pulled away to an upright position, lips leaving Rhys’s fingers with an audible pop, and Rhys almost immediately missed the skin against his. But Jack had grabbed the legs that were over his shoulders and started thrusting faster and yup, yup, this was totally okay. Totally okay.

Rhys started pumping faster, and it wasn’t long before he was cumming all over himself, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open as waves of pleasure rolled through him, leaving him momentarily blinded.

When he came to, Jack was still thrusting into him, looking less smug and more ragged as he watched Rhys reach completion.

Panting heavily as he lay on the mattress, Rhys stared at the mess left on his belly and then looked up at Jack who was hunching over at this point, looking really close to going over the edge.

“Rhys--”

The PA twitched at the feeling of being pressed open even when he’d already finished, “Y-yeah?”

“I’m really close,” Jack said, his lips pressed together, “Can I come on your face?

If Rhys hadn’t just finished, he might’ve gotten instantly hard on the spot.

Not trusting his voice, he nodded silently and watched as Jack closed his eyes in concentration, hips snapping in and out.

Until it all became too much and he pulled out completely. With hurried fingers, he pulled off the condom and jerked himself with quick measured tugs, hastily clambering over Rhys’s middle.

After two strokes, Rhys saw Jack twist his wrist as he stroked over the tip of his cock, panting out, “Mouth. Open your mouth.” But before Rhys could even do as he was told, Jack was shooting off in hot spurts against Rhys’s face. Rhys, who hadn’t been fast enough to catch everything, felt it spill down his cheek and onto his collarbone.

Looking completely fucked out, Jack rested back on his haunches and stared down at his PA between his thighs. He paused.

“Shit, where the fuck did I put my ECHOcomm--”

Rhys immediately surged up to push him off, “You are _not_ taking a picture, oh my god.”

“Please? C’mon? Just something for me? I’m not going to show anyone.”

“No,” Rhys said firmly, before grimacing at the sight of his messy bed, “What the--you dumped the condom on my sheets!”

“I’ll make it up to you if you let me snap a picture of your face,” Jack grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, “I mean you still haven’t given me a Valentine’s gift yet anyway.”

Rhys ignored this and pushed himself off the bed, making his way to the bathroom, “You seriously want a dumb picture of my face instead of the real thing?”

“Rhysie! I thought you loved me!”

There was no reply.

Jack followed him in anyway saying, “Hey, so about round two, I brought that chrome dildo with me.”

The sound of shampoo bottles being thrown was heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW WAS IT OMG HOW WAS IT
> 
> If it's good, blink.
> 
> If it's bad, do a back-flip.
> 
> I'll probably post another chapter. I'm not ready to give up on the gay just yet. Probably going to be including that chrome dildo but who knows. BTW, its my birthday tomorrow.
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr? [[X]](http://croisscunt.tumblr.com/).


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